The Seamstress
by McFadden
Summary: The Libertine: An afternoon at the theater turns from a waste to something more suitible when John meets someone backstage whom he'd love nothing more than to get under the skin of. Has his infamous mouth gotten him over his head this time?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Only one other of these out there so...Here's my Libertine story. It will be multi-chaptered I really think that those who seek real depth of character in a movie (and are mature enough for its subject matter) should go see this film. I was however unfortunate enough to see it with a bunch of Post POTC Johnny Depp fans who apparently didn't know what the film was about and were, shall I say, _surprised_, when they finally figured it out. I'm an older Depp fan (When I say older, I mean I'm old enough to remember when 21 Jump Street was on the air and I saw Edward Scissorhands during its original release.) And this new batch of fans grate on my nerves to no end. Before you scold me and leave, let me say this; in defense of some aforementioned fans, I have met quite a few who are indeed very cool and not solely into his looks. To you, I apologize for the rest of the bunch. Now that I've said my piece and wasted countless moments of your precious time, let me get on with the story. Please review if you like.

McFadden-

**The Seamstress**

Chapter One

John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester glowered into his seat. Here he was again at his favorite place in the world, the backwater theater. However, currently he was wrought with boredom. This afternoon's first act had been absolutely atrocious and all he wanted was a drink. Maybe it would make the pain of an encore easier to bear. His friends made snide comments about the actors and actresses while he just sank lower into his seat, wishing it would swallow him whole. From his box seat, high above the others, John's eyes searched the house for his barely apt servant who always seemed to be at his back except for in times when he wanted him there. Now, was such an occasion. Almost giving up hope as the stage lights were relit for the second act, he spotted the squat man ambling up the staircases on his way. John's eyes strayed over from the steps and were met with the beady black eyes of King Charles. Who promptly smiled and waved. John just looked away and tried everything to ignore the unwanted attention of the King. As his incompetent servant showed is face, the Earl of Rochester stamped at the ground with his cane, clearly annoyed with the man.

"Where the hell have you been Alcock? The play is almost over. You missed the entire first act."

Even though disdain was clearly dripping from the latter part of his statement, he really wanted to know where the daft fool had disappeared to. The stout man bent slightly and whispered while keeping his eyes set on the stage.

"My apologies Sir, but with good reason. I was otherwise indisposed."

John's face scrunched up in disgust and rolled his head back in his chair to stare disapprovingly at his accomplice.

"Urgh...Alcock how many times to I have to tell you? The ladies, and I use that term loosely, of the stage in East London are nothing but the filthiest of peddlers and whores. They'll screw you just when you finish screwing them and before you know it, your money's gone and your piss feels like salt in an open wound."

Alcock just rocked on his heels and smiled smugly to himself until the Earl conceded him to go on, which he did with much enthusiasm.

"Actually, the ladies of the stage _are_ dirt, as you so aptly put it. That I agree to, but the stage hands... _that_, I beg to differ. I may have even found some company for you. There's a feisty little dish backstage that I think you'd enjoy..."

He saw the leering eye that he was being given. John opened his mouth and cracked his jaw in boredom and mumbled into the back of his hand that was holding his cane by white knuckles.

"Alcock...don't be an idiot."

He just shrugged and cleared his throat.

"Suit yourself Sir. Better chances for me anyway."

And with a quickened pace, retreated beyond the heavy draperies that separated the house seating from the backstage area. Well, needless to say, this comment and action piqued John's interests in more than one way now. The least he could do was go figure out who all this fussing was about, and rather or not she was worth it.

He entered the backstage quarters with many a sigh to welcome him. The ladies did all but press, and some _did press_, to get closer to him. He was used to this behavior. Most of the theaters in this area of London were scoured with the mangy whores. Although, upon entering, one figure in particular had caught the Earl's eye. And it wasn't because she had been in the front of the line. No indeed, this enticing little creature was far back, tucked away in a dusty corner and did not seem disturbed one bit with the commotion around her. This must've been who Alcock was referring to. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw his lowly but faithful servant approaching the torso and legs that were the only things visible. _And, well...if that were the only thing to go on... _

Her face was out of view, hidden beneath ruffled layers of expensive silk charmeuse. A small, delicate hand with long fingers would peek out and make itself known every few seconds while batting away at a larger, clumsier hand. That of which belonged to his incorrigible sidekick. John had a quiet laugh as he watched the scene from his post, occasionally fending off the unwanted attention of the few actresses that hadn't left when he ignored all of them. Moments passed and a huff could be heard from the fabric, then all movement stilled. _Ah_, John knew this game. He watched as the unknown woman waited for the oaf to make his second and final move. She was going to be a cobra, and Alcock, the unlucky brute, was going to be her unsuspecting prey. He reached a bold hand out to tickle her sides and he caught a needle straight into the back of the hand, threading still attached. Alcock immediately cursed and recoiled his wounded hand, bringing it to his mouth.

"What in fucking hell did you do that for!"

A simply sweet and chide remark came muffled through the material.

"You didn't behave."

He watched his manservant skulk off and back to the open part of the theater. John straightened himself gallantly, thinking this would be the perfect opportune moment to move in.

A lovely soft voice emerged with a quiet dignity. Much clearer now that he was standing directly beside her. Even so, there was no mistaking the venom laced in her words.

"You have my warning now. This time, it won't just be your hand that stings..."

John smiled to himself and whispered in his best roguish lilt.

"Let's hope not..."

She froze, not expecting to hear a different voice. Although the same scent of wine was heavy on his breath, his speech wasn't slurred beyond cohesion. She knew who it was. She could tell when he entered the room a few minutes before. It was none other than the infamous John Wilmot of Rochester. And in her opinion, a very conceited, single-minded cad.

"It's Kathryn, isn't it?"

She was shocked that he actually knew her name. Before she had time to think of what to do next, the fabric she'd been mending was pulled up and a very handsome face appeared in their absence.

"May I come in?"

Kathryn didn't know what to say so he took her silence as a yes and ducked under the cloth, covering himself and her from all outside view. John was amazed when he took the sight of her in for the first time. She was enchanting. With her indignant and wide hazel eyes set upon him. Her dark hair had been pinned up but with her current state had shaken free a few errant soft strands, framing her features in a most appealing way. Her pretty red mouth was set in a frown and her cheeks flushed pink with either anger or embarrassment. He couldn't tell which. It was hard to believe his own eyes. This young woman was seducing him far more than any woman had and she hadn't even spoken a word. Intrigued, he stared at her with the smallest hint of a smile and then looked around at the insides of this dress. Realizing that it was better to view it from the outside he lifted the fabric up over their hands and released it to settle on the sewing form. John looked over it once more and then back to Kathryn who resumed to pick at it with her needle as if nothing happened.

"That has to look beautiful on you."

Without so much as looking up from her stitching, she pulled a colored thread with her teeth and replied in a dull, unimpressed tone.

"I do not wear the costumes Mr. Wilmot, I merely make them."

He crooked an eyebrow delightedly. _Finally! Someone worth the chase..._

"Oh, so you _do _know who I am..."

Her brows creased in concentration over her work as she held a conversation with him.

"Yes Sir, I do. But just because your reputation precedes you and you are a favorite of royalty. It'll do you good to remember you a but only a hair-shy above myself in class, so that doesn't mean that I will dress up like a little doll for you."

He chuckled in amusement which earned him a deadly glare from her. Wetting his lips noticibly with his tongue, John leaned casually on his cane and smirked.

"Well I think you should. You're far too pretty to have your head buried behind french silks. Only a woman of your beauty could carry off something like that. You should be wearing them! I'll be the one with my head underneath the skirts from now on."

He hadn't meant it as a sexual connotation...not really. Even though the draw to his voice projected otherwise. He was actually attempting to make a joke at his own expense. His reputation as a lover was widely known. But, from the looks of things, Kathryn was having none of it. She closed her eyes to try to gather her composure and took a deep breath to sustain her inner thoughts from running rampant. If she spoke her true mind, the Earl might get more than he bargained for in the manner of degradation. She pursed her lips tightly together and continued hemming the skirt. Only allowing herself one lick at his moral character.

"I'm far too sarcastic for your liking, I assure you. However, if you are looking for someone with the same childish wit, there is a bar maiden across the street who may be more of your taste. Her known name is Trixy. I'm sure you can only guess _why..._"

On the contrary, John quite liked this unaffected mistress. Her condescension and intolerance of his advances only seemed to charm him more. She was a fine opponent and rather she ignored him or indulged him, he didn't care. He wasn't about to give up. He smirked to himself and posed her with another question.

"What is it about me that ails you so? Am I besmirched to think that you will not have me if I resumed to try and steal you?

She actually laughed. A beautiful bell of a laughter, however flippant it was. It left him with shivers down his spine. He let the feeling rest over him and rolled his neck to the side. She raised her head up and looked at him, arcing a brow.

"If indeed, that was what you were trying to do _Dear Earl_, I suggest you try harder because I didn't even take notice. Next time, try stating your intentions forthright, but do not do them with me. It'll only be wasted breath that leaves you."

He smiled and his eyes lit up in a fashion that they hadn't been in a while. He was genuinely amused with this woman. He secretly loved the way she spat out his title in such a poisoned form. He held endearment for her in his gaze and his fingers itched to trace themselves down the line of her jaw.

"Rest easy Darling, knowing that any breath on you, wasted or not, is time more pleasurably spent by me than if I had a whole harem of ladies at my beckoned call."

She snorted lightly and moved out of his arm's range. Picking a thimble out of her pocket, she added a ribbon trimming to the dress. John just watched her with a patient fascination. For a moment he thought she had forgotten that he was standing there. When Kathryn spoke next, her voice was a scoffed but dignified tone, thick with sarcasm.

"Forgive me for thinking this, but I would've thought you would already have that easy comfort.

He shook his head. It was true. He could have many women in London. But he they often bored him too quickly. She was different, and anything different was an addiction to John. So, he continued to pry her just to see what remark would come next. He stepped closer and whispered

"Perhaps your right. But now, after meeting you, the company of others simply won't do."

She couldn't believe the utter nerve of this man.

"Oh Really? Well, don't I feel like one of the lucky ones?"

John chuckled.

"You should Love, that you should..."

Kathryn began to pray that he would leave her alone soon. At this rate, she wouldn't get any work done and this dress had to be finished before the next curtain call

"Well Darling, I must be off. I have much to do."

He paused when she showed signs of relief.

"Well Mr. Wilmot I do believe that is only thing we have in common."

She made a small gesture to the other pile of costumes from the play. When her eyes glanced at her awaiting work, John took a step in closer and whispered seductively in her ear.

"Do not be deceived Love, we have more in common than you think and I shall show you soon enough. I'll return this evening around seven."

Kathryn's eyes met his, wide-eyed and confused. He reassured her.

"You do have another evening matinee yes?"

_Damnit... _She nodded regrettably. John gave her a brilliant and handsome smile.

"Splendid."

Kathryn couldn't believe her luck. Why her? Why had he chosen her to pick upon? She shook her head. John adjusted his coat and picked up his hat from it's spot on the floor, placing it on his head. In their shared silence, he heard Kathryn sigh in frustration. Her voice was barely audible at that point, but he heard it.

"You just don't give up do you?"

He smiled his charming smile and looked at her with a mischievous eye.

"Never...see you at seven."

With that, he tipped his hat at her with his cane and sauntered out of the stage door, his cane clicking briskly on the wood below it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you Ms. Grey (yes that's what I'm calling you) for my solo review. Honestly I don't know how much of a fan base this movie has yet, but I found the urge to write about it too irresistible. I hope you and the other seemingly anonymous readers enjoy this chapter as much as the first. As always, I'm grateful at least someone likes my writing. Till number three...

McFadden-

Chapter Two

The Earl arrived nearly an hour before call time just to wander around and observe this woman in her natural environment like she was the hunted. He saw her. She had her hair tied up into a bun displaying her long, smooth neck. The raunchiest thoughts passed through his mind as to what he could do to her while mo one was back there. Her movements were calmer than before and her pose so diminutive. She was humming a beautiful french tune to herself and he was enjoying the sound of it too much. He watched her a little while longer before he presented her with his hidden presence.

"You're boring me..."

John emerged from the shadows, yawning purposely as Kathryn's head snapped up in shock of the sudden outburst. When she saw just who it was, her eyes narrowed into deep, absinthe-colored slits.

"Imagine that...two things we have in common."

_God...she didn't think he'd actually show! _Her jaw clenched tight at she decided to ignore him. She jabbed the needle in the fabric and pulled the thread harshly. This just proved how easily his presence got under her skin. John smirked as he resumed watching her. Kathryn, too consumed by her loathing, failed to pay attention to where she was sewing and stabbed herself in her index finger. Although she did flinch initially, her only reaction was a quiet curse.

"Dammit..."

The blood beaded up as she smeared it gently and sighed, trying her best not to get it on the dress. John drew nearer and apprehensively looked and without thinking he spoke and grabbed her hand.

"Let me see it."

She instantly jerked her hand back and looked at him cruelly.

"I'm fine! It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been in here."

He just grabbed her hand and jerked it forward, nearly causing her to lose her balance. Had she not thought better of it Kathryn would've slapped him for that. John just gave her a stern stare.

"Hold still and quit being so difficult I'm trying to help you."

Her voice was unusually cold as she spat harsh words back at him.

"I don't want you to touch me! There's no telling where you've been."

Normally he would've laughed and brushed it off if that had been said by anyone else but her. His reply was barbed and filled with spite.

"Oh if you only knew Love..."

It definitely wasn't an endearment and it was completely void of his usual amusement. He released her hands, throwing them out of his grasp and turned swiftly away. Kathryn just stood there in stunned silence. _Maybe she had gone too far..._ When she looked down at her hands, she realized that her finger had stopped bleeding because of the tightness of the Earl's grip. Even the remnants of blood were gone. Kathryn groaned and rubbed her temples in frustration.

When he showed up that night, she thought, although begrudgingly, he looked less like a hunting scoundrel and more like a man. After their argument, she busied herself behind the curtain and tried to avoid being in view of the audience as much as she could. To put it bluntly, she was embarrassed that she had let her anger get the best of her. She always prided herself for her quick retorts but she also tried to uphold herself with grace. Tonight, she failed at that.

John saw her dashing about the stage, then down the steps leading to the side of the theater and he approached the orchestra pit to stop her. Arms laden with robes and dresses, Kathryn halted just in front of him. Her cheeks were burned pink and she hardly had the courage to meet his dark eyes. The Earl looked at her with his chin held high and a slight, non-evasive, half-smile on his lips. He turned once around.

"Does this please you?

His voice was softer now and at a loss of it earlier bravado or venom. Her eyes traveled down his choice of attire. He was dressed finely in a black waistcoat with gold buttons and a white poet's shirt. He wasn't being his showy self now, he was being polite. Kathryn's view drifted down his sleeves where a small blotch of red caught her eye. It was her blood, stained on his shirt. Her embarrassment flared again and he took notice and followed her gaze. She looked at him sheepishly, not believing what she was about to do.

"I'm sorry...a..about that."

John found her apology nothing short of genuine and sincere. It surprised him to see that she actually gave him one. He had not even expected her to stop when he approached her. For all he thought, she would run in the opposite direction just to get away from him. He shook his arm and hid away the cuff behind his back. Perhaps more appealing was why he had chosen not to stay angry with her

"No harm."

When he first laid eyes on her, he saw innoscence and nievety. He was quick to discover that though she was innocent, she wasn't nieve. In fact, if anything she was smart and perhaps defensive and he wanted to find out why. Now, thanks to their fight, he was a step closer in figuring out his mystery. The whole reason John even stayed backstage earlier that afternoon was because he was looking for someone who could not only stimulate his body, _which was a nice consolation_, but someone who also entertained him in all aspects. He knew that even as she cut him with words, that she was a kind woman. He could see it in her face. Anyone with an expression that fair, hadn't been brushed with angry lines that came with a cold heart. _Just look at his mother and anyone would be able to tell the difference..._

In all of his analyzing, she shifted from one foot to the other in the uncomfortable silence. He had been looking at her so strangely. Breaking from his thoughts, John smiled charmingly at her and lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her pin-bruised fingertips. Kathryn was afraid she was starting to think he was a gentleman. Without another word, he began to turn and step away when she called him back.

"John?"

He faced her, secretly surprised he had heard her say his name again.

"Who gave you my name?"

He rested casually on his cane and opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by another voice. Seeing the repulsed expression on Kathryn's face, he didn't even have to turn to see who it was.

"Sir...there you are."

He smiled knowingly to Kathryn, who now knew the answer to her own question and she rolled her eyes. _She should've known._ John turned to Alcock and stared sharply.

"Do you not see that I am in the middle of a conversation?"

"Sorry Sir, M'lady..."

Kathryn instantly noticed the difference of manner when her former nuisance was in the presence of his master and was surprised by the both of them. She saw a dignified air to the Earl that he didn't show before. Alcock continued to address him.

"Rose is waiting for you."

He gestured to John's opera box where a poorly and inappropriately dressed woman stood. By the way she looked and waved to John, she could tell that perhaps the woman had the pleasure of his more intimate company before. This upset Kathryn more than it disgusted her and she didn't exactly know why. She watched John's expression carefully and saw that it didn't hold the same interest as it did when he was looking at her. Knowing that little fact, quieted her suppressed anger. John turned his attention back to her and waved Alcock away. He bowed and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Don't leave..."

His eyes could've pinned her to the spot. _What was the matter with her tonight! _His breath danced across her face as he whispered, almost pleadingly.

"Stay, please... I'm sending her away and then I'll meet you backstage. My breath will only be spent for you."

He grinned and winked at her, then ran off. Kathryn had never been so flustered in her life! Her head hurt with all of these conflicting emotions Was this jealousy that was pricking her when she saw that other woman? She was so confused and disappointed with herself. The most sex-crazed man in England had asked her to wait for him. He was well known for his pretty words. He had spoken them to her and the sad thing was, is that she actually believed him for a moment.

John made his way up to Rose, who hung over the balcony with a clear view of her cleavage that repulsed him to no end.

"Keep leaning like that Rose and you'll fall right over the edge. You're far too heavy in the breast to be pulling stunts like that."

The small blonde woman looked at him with a laughter on her lips and glazed eyes.

"Who's the pretty Lark you've got down there Johnny? She's not really your taste. Too tall for you isn't she?"

Her mocking tone didn't settle right with him and he cast her a dangerous glance. She picked up on it and giggled wildly teetering all over the place.

"Oooh...Daddy's in love."

John turned his head, annoyed with looking at her anymore. His jaw flexed and relaxed again and again. He looked to Rose defiantly/

"I am not in love. If anything, it's mere infatuation."

Even saying that, he felt like he was selling himself short. _He wanted a drink so badly! _As if on a personal timer, Alcock walked up beside the both of them and Rose swung herself haphazardly on him. John reached in the pocket of his servants coat, hoping he remembered to put the hidden flask there. Lucky enough, he did and John wasted no time chugging down its entire contents.

"What's the matter Johnny Boy? My ol' cunny not good enough for you anymore? You need that virgin to rip open only to sew her back up again. Hey! I'll set she'd even give you the needle and thread!"

The Earl's eyes fired in rage. She had gone too far, and now he wished more than ever that Rose were a man, because right then, he would've killed her without a second thought. Alcock already pulled her away from him and was waiting for his word.

"Get her out of my sight."

Alcock nodded and hoisted her unstable body away as she continued to laugh mockingly, all the way out of the theater. John was fuming so much that he paced his box like a predatory tiger. He couldn't get to the backstage fast enough for his liking. He wanted to wipe the images of what Rose said out of his mind and replace it with visions and poetry. Walking behind the curtain, John only saw a handful of people, none of which were Kathryn and he was filled with anxiety. He pulled one of the actors aside and questioned him.

"Where's Kathryn?"

Momentarily off guard, the yong man shrunk away in John's hands. He was so intimidated that he fumbled terribly.

"Uh...She...She ran out of here like a bat out of hell crying about 10 minutes ago. "

The Earl sighed. _Fuck!_ She must've seen the whole fiasco.

"Do you know where she lives?"

The young man looked at him skeptically and John restrained himself from shaking him, even though the boy was shaking enough as it was.

"She lives in the lodging on the edge of the cobblestoned main road."

John pushed the actor away, not even thanking him for his help. He knew the address and that's all that mattered. Leaving the theater and his servant behind, he took out on foot. He was going there before the night was through.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ms. Grey, you are officially my favorite reviewer (and it's not because you're my _only_ reviewer. I hope you do write your own addition to the wonderful world that is The Libertine. I'd very much like to read it if you ever did. Hopefully in this chapter, I've kept up to par with all the actions and character traits. Review only if you feel compelled.

Always your literary slave,

McFadden-

Chapter Three

John made good timing in tearing through the crowds of the theater, but he slowed down when a rare moment of self doubt stabbed him in his side. _What if she refused to see him? She had to have seen that he sent Rose away! Rose...what a conniving little slut. _Any loss of happiness to John in the past year usually attributed to that straw-haired mistake of fornication.

One thing, and one thing only could quiet this demon known as a conscience. Consumption. _Getting drunk..._

Winding through the cheap streets, he came across the back entrance to a ruddy pub where the dregs of society convened. Thinking quickly, he crept into the main cellar, eying the entire awaiting loot. Each bottle begging him shamelessly for their selection. However difficult, he chose a fine and familiar red port and pulled it from the mildew-laden case. John inspected the ruby color briefly and stowed it away in his coat. Retrieving a small velvet satchel from his pocket, he laid 30 British pounds in its place. Plenty more than what the wine was worth. And, although he was sure no one would notice its absence, he paid for the source of his convictions. He had never been accustomed to stealing. He left the thievery up to those of nobler blood.

He wondered down the main road, tapping his silver cane across the cobblestones. Taking needy gulps of wine to stave off his nagging inner monologue. He was starting to annoy himself, and that was hard to do. He must've been really stressed.

After about 4 drags of wine, his head started to lighten as the divine brew coursed through his veins. He felt pleasantly careless and mumbled to himself.

"Now we're getting somewhere..."

Looking around, he realized he was still a good whole block till he reached the end of the main road where Kathryn lived. _How slow had he been walking?_ He could care less by that point. From his view, he could see the building with its soft light. _She was there! _

He hauled his cane beneath his arm. It was more of an accessory than anything, and he began to run. When he reached his destination, he stood outside, contemplating on how he should get her attention. The melody of the song she was humming earlier came to the surface as he created new prose to go with it.

"_The moon's your eyes..._

_And like the starry sky,_

_Touch your fingertips, like butterflies in flight._

_My love, the night is young,_

_I'll be by your side._

_You can spread your wings,_

_The moon is up and he will be your guide._

_The lonely night,_

_Has never been so clear,_

_The beating of my heart,_

_Will tell you I am near._

_Take to the skies,_

_You shall not fear..._

_Our dream is made to come true._

_Close your eyes,_

_The night will see us all through..._

_And when the wind,_

_It whispers in your ear,_

_Time is on our side,_

_And we can turn the tide._

_The time is now._

_The heavens above._

_Come closer to me,_

_The silver moon, it shines for you, my love._

_The moon's your eyes..._

_An all the stars tonight,_

_Will send you down the light,_

_Heavenly butterflies._

_My love, the night is young,_

_Come closer to me,_

_For I need you near_

_La luna, mon amor, brille por toi._"

There, in the window, was a shift in the gauzy curtain. He could only make out her form, but at least she was listening. The only thing he saw before a sharp pain came to his head, was a small woman's black boot. Shaking off the pain and not to be discouraged, he picked up the shoe and headed to her door. He saw that the door was unlocked and allowed himself the common courtesy of knocking even through his head was throbbing now because of this woman. He didn't expect her to answer, and when she didn't, he let himself in.

There she stood in the pale light of the oil lamp on the armoire. Dressed now in a night robe made from the same type of silk that she mended so carefully each day. Kathryn couldn't believe his audacity in showing up! Let alone adding insult to injury by deprecating her favorite lullaby. _Okay, honestly, his verses were as beautiful as she expected. How could they not be! That's his forte. He even added a closing line in french that was so romantic. _She knew she wouldn't forget that line. It meant, _the moon, it shines, for you tonight My Love_. Admitting this even to herself made her furious with him. John watched her perplexed expression. She was stunning. Appearing to grow more furiously angry and pallid in color. All of which, was directed on him.

"I liked that song ,God dammit! Until _you_ ruined it."

With a sudden flash, he saw the leaded crystal glass fly past his head and shatter up against the wall. He looked at her insanely. _He was too drunk for this. _She had aimed it not to hit him, just to come close. She moved closer with a chilling fluidity and spoke, her voice eerily calm.

"What? Did I scare you?"

She picked up another glass, this one filled to the brim with a bloody liquid. She drained it languidly of its contents, all the while staring at him with glowing eyes. One she consumed the last drop, she weighted it gently in her hands, looking at it and then back to him.

"This time I won't miss, I _promise..._"

Her tone was stained with repulsion for him as she ended the sentence. John just watched her cautiously.

"And I always keep my promises."

He knew exactly that she was referring to their final words at the theater. _So she had thought he left her to go gallivanting with Rose. Why did he have to take so long in getting there? _He sighed. _This was going to be a long night. _

"You've got it all wrong Dear-heart."

His voice was soft and endearing Kathryn eyes saddened at him. John knew then that she had the wrong impression. He watched as her anger built back up

"You've been with her before...why not now? Because of me? Don't blame it on me. My heart will not pay for your actions Johnny! I'm no prize."

The fact that she had called him Johnny was not lost on him. It was a name so rarely given permission to use that he couldn't even remember the last time he heard it. Hearing it from her, even in this context, he consented to himself that she could've called him that all she ever wanted. Even though he knew that she must've been feeling her own wine by now, she was not so much drunk as he and he could tell it in her voice. He literally felt bad. She imbued so much anger and then followed it with so much pain. He could see now that she genuinely thought she was no worthy prize. He felt sorry for her. And for the first time, he felt guilty. He knew that the best response was none at all, so he endured to wait in silence until she spoke again.

As she calmed down, the Earl looked down, noticing immediately the same label wine that he just lifted from the port. _A woman who knew her wine, I could love her more now. _Contemplating his next move, he surveyed his surroundings. They were motley decorated in a way that charmed him. Their vivid color had a pleasant effect on his inebriated state. Judging by all of the books littering the shelves in her drawing room, she was much more than he initially pegged her for. The ice in her voice when she uttered her next words make the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up

"You're nothing but a bottom dwelling debaucher dressed in expensive clothing and masked with beautiful prose. You must think me so simple minded, don't you? Well, I can tell you this. Just after one day of knowing you, I don't believe you anymore John."

It was a verbal knife that pierced his being. She certainly saw this and reveled in the fact that she had hurt his inflated ego. But the final blow was to come seconds later. Her voice was a mere hiss.

"All you are... is a lie."

Her words were unmerciful, but they were true. All he could do was stare, opened mouthed. John's mind reeled from all the heightened electricity in the air due to their way of sparring, or perhaps all of this was heavily influenced by the wine, _didn't know, didn't care... _The Earl was livid beyond control, and right then, that's all that mattered. He was prone to let his emotions take full advantage of all sense and reasoning. And if anything, she had been the weightless feather that pushed him over the edge. She sat on a shabby and piled chase lounge that stretched in front of him and dared him with her eyes to say anything to dispute her comment. John leaned over and grabbed the end of her seat while still remaining in his. He then jerked it sharply till it rested between his legs. The sudden and abrupt movement caused Kathryn to dig her nails into the cushion to stay put. Wilmot proceeded to get up from his high-backed chair, placing one knee on the chase lounge and then the other. He crawled slowly, reaching her legs and then up her body. She watched him, growing more terrified. With each hand resting on either side of her shoulders, he lifted his one leg teasingly, across and over. Complete with his best enticing smile, he slowly straddled her body and pressed down. He could hear the air leaving her lungs and catching in her throat. The warmth between them was enough to scald.

"How do you know everything about me is a lie if you haven't tried me before?"

His eyebrow crooked in a seductive way as he rubbed his lip with his finger, dragging his tongue across it in the process. Kathryn looked away for a split second and felt him tip her chin up and pushed his index finger past her lips and into her mouth. She tasted the salt of his skin and the fermented alcohol in his saliva. It was a deadly combination. _How did this happen? One moment their at each other's throats and now it looked like he wanted to be down hers. _Kathryn felt it hard to remain still and unaffected by this drastic change of events. She could see the lust covering his pupils, but buried deep inside of them, was conviction. In their depths, his anger waited. He had something to prove. She watched as his eyes fluttered from her face, to raking over her body, and back again.

"Perhaps, if only I could lick away that chilly disposition of yours with my warm tongue..."

His face was only millimeters away, deeply laced with alcohol, but none the more intimidating. His eyes burned into her, violating every cell. His lips hovered towards her when he muttered against the small space that was left.

"...If only you'd let me"

Without any presage, he lifted himself off of her, grabbed his discarded jacket. All the enchantment and thickness of the moment was broken and Kathryn blinked rapidly, caught off guard. The loss of his body heat made her cold. John turned around when he reached her door. His sardonic and cocky tone returning to his voice.

"You know where to find me when you want to stop lying to yourself."

He tapped his cane twice on her doorframe for extra flare and disappeared into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm glad yo be at your service. Thank you ladies. Your comments make up for the potential mindless ones I could receive from other readers. Ms. Grey, are you okay now? I hope your computer didn't melt...-laughs- and Ms. Leanan, I'm so happy to see someone else discovered my story. I do hope that the both of you write your stories and I will be fully obliged to help each of you. Just send me an email. Okay, well enough of my babble, on to chapter four!

Constantly at your mercy,

McFadden-

Chapter Four

Smugly happy with himself, the Earl sauntered home with his usual swagger. He had gotten the top hand quickly and now he was almost certain that Kathryn was still in the same place he left her, trying desperately to comprehend what just transpired. He left her breathless and silent, which is exactly what he intended to do since she had infuriated him by bruising his confidence with her words. Only _he_ was supposed to know how to do that! He grunted aloud and kicked a stray rock with his boot like a stubborn child. If he had supposedly been the victor in tonight's game, then why was this emptiness crawling up in the back of his throat like bile? He felt completely alone. Glancing down at his sleeve, he saw her blood still there on his cuff jeering at him contemptuously. _That's what she was trying to do! She was trying to make a mockery of him. _Even the inebriated, who were known for their irrational behavior, could point out a stupid thought when they had one. And that one, was his shining moment of idiocy. She wasn't mocking him. She was scorning him because she was hurt.

John walked for what seemed like miles, arguing with his conscience until he finally lost the battle and resumed walking in a bitter silence until he was coming up on the theater once more. Looking at it, he got a bad taste in his mouth. Flashbacks pulled their way to the forefront of his mind of his finger in Kathryn's mouth. How hot that had felt. And even though it was forced upon by him, she didn't put up much protest. _Perhaps it was the shock... _He wondered if all other crevices of her body were that warm and inviting.

A black carriage caught his eye at the theater entrance. Squinting to steady his vision, John saw the familiar lacquered door with its silver handled knobs and recognized it at his own buggy. _Hadn't he sent his friends home with his servant in that? _He threw his head back and sighed. He would never get rid of that man! _Why didn't he ever listen?_ A chubby pair of hands startled him when they were laid on his shoulders. John swayed and faltered in his stance, trying to see who was behind him, and he was steadied by his attendant. The Earl groaned.

"Fucker..."

Alcock just ignored it and steered him in the right direction. Some people on the street stared at them and got a stubby one finger salute from the stout man.

"Get in the carriage, my Lord."

John whirled around wobbly and pointed a finger at him.

"Who said you could give orders? You work for me, you...you..."

As the Earl searched for the right word, Alcock bodily lifted him up over his shoulder and placed him in the cart. John looked at him drunkenly as he sunk like a puddle into the plush chair.

"...you Brat!"

He waited for a response and was disappointed with what he got. A flat and bored answer.

"Thank you, Sir."

The fat man just smirked and slammed the door. The rest of the carriage shook when Alcock mounted the driver's seat and cracked the whip at the horse. John started to feel slightly woozy as the carriage pulled off and bumped from the rocks underneath the wheels. His head lolled to the side and hit a solid object. Bringing his hands up, John felt the offending entity. It was a shoulder.

"Nice comeback Rochester..."

John smiled in his slight drowsiness. That voice belonged to the gentlemanly Billy Downs. One of his gallivanting crew. He was smartly dress in a red hunting jacket and black pants. The young man continued talking.

"Long night?"

John weighed the question in his cloudy mind and searched for his sarcastic reply.

"Anything _long_ would've been nice. A nice _long_ bath, a long slow fuck, followed by a nice and _long_ encore...but no, all I got was a _short_ temper and a _big_ problem."

The Earl unconsciously shifted his body to get more comfortable. Billy chucked knowing his friend was in a rare state of mind but amazed he still retained the ability of being himself. It didn't take long for them to fall into a sort of silence, only because it was intermediately interrupted by John's soft snoring. He had passed out within the first five minute en route home. Billy wasn't disappointed. He was surprised John even made it to the carriage. He never expected him to stay lucid that long. So, in leu of conversation, Billy just observed the man he so secretly admired. He half expected him to slip into the fetal position as he slept. Earlier, Billy had caught the tail end of John's confrontation with Rose and also noticed his friend giving meaningful stares into the direction of a stagehand of the theater. He heard about her, but knew John wouldn't discuss what was going on between the two of them, if it was anything at all.

A half hour later, they halted outside of the Wilmot Estate that John kept in East London. Alcock opened the door, fully prepared to carry his master up to the house. He carefully slung the man on his back as Billy followed suit up to the door. John had woken up enough to regain the use of his legs but he was by no means lucid enough to hold a conversation. He looked over at Billy with glazed eyes and nearly slumped over. Thinking swiftly, the young man slung the Earl's arm over his shoulders and prepared to help him up the steps and into his house.

"Thank you Alcock, I can take it from here."

Once inside, Billy placed John on the nearest couch and pulled his favorite winged chair up next to it. He watch as his friend's eyes moved beneath his lids in a deep sleep. Having nothing better to do, Billy lit a candle on the table and picked up a book from that was there, flipping through it and hoping something would catch his attention long enough for an hour as his friend slept off his madness in a dream. Time passed and Billy heard a grunt. John opened his eyes to a screaming headache. Once the room stopped spinning, he looked to his right and saw someone in his room. Billy apparently watched over him. Seeing the man sitting in the chair next to the couch and taking notice of the book in his hands, John questioned him groggily.

"Have you gotten to the point where the man sodomizes the virgin with his walking cane? That's my favorite part."

John laughed lightly. Billy's head peered past the book at him with a raised brow and John smiled salaciously.

"Why do you think I carry one around..."

Billy just shook his head at him, reminded again that Rochester was such a sick fellow, but he highly doubted that he had yet to use that cane as a sexual phallus. John just rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at him.

What are you doing here?"

Billy put the book back in its place and leaned up closer, placing his elbows on his knees.

"You look stressed Rochester, so I stayed. I only wanted to make sure you were okay."

Billy was the only person he had known who found it more comfortable to use people's last names rather than their first. His eyes were large, like that of a curious cat. John grinned, looking at him a bit longer than comfort would allow. His voice carried a sudden seriousness to it.

"You're too sweet Billy...

John took a deep breath and looked away, patting his cheek.

"...why don't you go find a damsel you can pay to rescue...or maybe you can even cause them further distress..."

The Earl chuckled slightly.

"...Whichever one she prefers. Some of them like that, you know. On any case, don't concern yourself with me. I'll be fine now. I shall live to see the light of another day. Thanks to you of course."

With a grunt, he put up his feet and laid, stretching on the couch. Billing smiled softly, consenting to himself that Rochester would be alright and got up to leave. John raised a hand from the couch and caught his. With a devious smirk he spoke.

"Make sure you wake up Alcock and make him take you home."

Billy laughed at his suggestion.

"It's well past midnight, Rochester. Don't you think that's a little too cruel?"

John just waved his suggestion away.

"Nonsense! Go ahead. He'll thank me in the morning..."

He grinned at his own sarcasm. Billy just clicked his teeth at him and walked out the door waving goodbye to his friend. The Earl snuggled into his favorite indentation on the couch and counted, just waiting for it... A whole ream of colorful curses came from downstairs. Voice, quite nicely by Alcock himself as he stomped to the door and yelled up the steps before slamming it shut.

"YOU'RE A BASTARD!"

John closed his eyes and smiled, whispering softly and proud.

"Thank you..."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well, I guess my last update wasn't received so kindly. I hope I didn't lose the interests of my dear readers. That would be a tragedy. Perhaps y'all have just had a busy couple of days like myself, in that case, I'm sorry and I know how you feel. I hope that everyone is well and I hope you like my new chapter better than the one who preceded it.

McFadden-

Chapter Five

The Earl woke up the following morning in a much better state than he had gone to bed. His muscles cracked and ached from sleeping on the couch, but that was a small price to pay for the absence of a horrible hangover. He didn't have time for one anyway, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Without bothering to change, he headed straight for the theater.

Alcock shadowed him that morning with a much quieter disposition. John smiled to himself. He could feel the utter hatred coming off of the man as he drove the carriage while trying not to nod off. They were retracing the steps that he took last night. As they passed by Kathryn's lodgings, John looked out of the window and saw the place shut up tight and void of any life within it's walls. _Good. He thought right...she must be at the theater then._

As they pulled up to the main entrance, Alcock opened the door seemingly against his will, but refused to follow John into the theater itself. This suited the Earl just fine. He would much rather endure the time in privacy. The lone usher at the top of the rows of seating greeting him politely but received a puzzled glance. John raised his brows.

"Like what you see..."

The boy straightened himself out and explained his reason for the strange look

"Excuse my rudeness Sir, but are you not wearing the same clothes as you did last night?"

_Indignant little scab... _John took in his own disheveled appearance in one of the theater's many gilded mirrored walls. It was true, he looked like shit. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was rumpled, and his coat hung at an awkward angle off of his shoulders. Not answering the boys question, he just continued with one of his own.

"I'm looking for a young woman who's a seamstress here. Her name is Kathryn, has she arrived yet?

The boy looked perplexed but at the same time he feared telling the Earl, no. He looked briefly at the empty lobby behind him and then turned back to John.

"I'm afraid I don't know Sir. I think I may be the only one here this morning."

As soon as he said that, the Earl's mood went sour and he simply couldn't be bothered with the boy's presence any longer. Brushing past him, John made his way to the back of the theater and disappeared behind the stage curtain. He looked around and saw her usual area was indeed empty. He sank burdensome and onerous onto a cornflower blue, crushed velvet couch that he had seen being used as a prop in plays before. It didn't take long for him to notice that he was utterly alone.

He stayed put for a good two hours while men lumbered construction around him. Apparently the young usher from earlier told them of his presence and that he was not to be bothered because they just continued on with their work and left him alone. He kept himself mildly entertained by reading script copies left backstage by the other actors and tripping up the stage hands with his cane. Soon though, the fun in these things ran out. John just wasn't able to stand it much longer so he got up and brooded out of the theater. Of course, there at the front, his carriage waited with his servant hunched over the top seat, snoring loudly as the horse just swatted at the stray flies with his tail. John jabbed Alcock with his cane and jerked the man awake.

Get up, you slovenly thorn in my ass."

He looked disdainfully at the Earl before righting himself and picking up the reins again.

"We're heading to the palace."

Without another word, he got in the carriage and the horse pulled it away in the opposite direction of home. A while later, he came to a stop at the gates and got out of the carriage cart yelling at the top of his lung, and demanding that the King let him in. The members of the Royal Court looked at him strangely but the few there who knew who he was, paid little attention to the outburst. They were used to them.

The King appeared shortly thereafter with his usual horde and mob of dictators and servants fussing over his every move. He laughed heartily when taking one look at the Earl.

"Good Lord my fine fellow, you look like death warmed over! What's happened to you? Late night at the brothel?"

John smirked disdainfully. _Of course he would think that._ And at John's leisure and discretion, John continued to let him believed what he wanted. It would be better than him knowing the truth. Sadly he would have to divulge the slightest information in order to get want he wanted from him. Charles clapped John on the shoulder a little too hard for his liking, but he restrained himself from knocking the absurdly dressed peacock over. The King looked at his servants and gestured to John. They immediately swarmed him, removing his jacket and taking his cane.

"Let's get you cleaned up shall we? You're past due for a hot bath."

The Earl couldn't do much to protest that. He followed the King to the bathhouse in the north wing of the castle. He hated the fact of having people fret over him, and did everything he could to keep from fanning them off.

The steam was more than welcomed when it hit John's face. He was disrobed and aided to the awaiting bath of scented oils. All of this in the presence of the King. With one wave of Charles' hand, the servants hurriedly disappeared and left the two of them alone. Sitting on the porcelain tiled bench across from the tub, Charles spoke.

"So, what brings you to see me?"

John leaned into the hot water and laid a washing cloth over his face. His voice was muffled behind it, but the King could hear him clearly.

"I've come to redeem my favor..."

The King smiled expectantly.

"Ah! And here I was hoping you had forgotten about that detail."

John flopped the corner of the washcloth over, revealing his condescending eye.

"_That,_ was no detail...You try explaining to the Queen Mum why her son is on all fours in the throne room with an orgy of naked menservants around him. I wanted no part in that little show."

King Charles chuckled at the memory and shrugged.

"Okay old friend, name your price."

John sat up, the wash cloth falling into the sloshing water. He sighed and his hands gripped the edge of the tub.

"I have an obsession..."

John told the King briefly what he could about Kathryn without divulging too much. Charles' expression grew more and more excited as he went on. By the end of the explanation, the King smiled delightedly and clasped his hands in amusement. For all Charles knew, the Earl had an affinity with a common whore that just wouldn't be satisfied until he had her. John liked the gleam that appeared in the King's eyes. He was sure whatever he had thought of was a good and devilish plan. John had only one other concern.

"Now, if I ask you to do this for me, you aren't going to turn right back around banish me again, are you?"

He looked at the King with pointed eyes as Charles returned his loathing-opulent stare with a more congenial one.

"No John, of course not. I do hope you realize that the only reason I did it the first time was out of love. It was a mere formality. I'll concede to your favor, don't worry lad."

John cringed at the word lad, he hated being called that and he felt for some reason that Charles knew it too. The King took his leave as the Earl shot murderous daggers into his back. _Formality my ass! He enjoyed every minute of that...pompous ass! _John remembered how difficult it was for dear ol' Charlie to keep the grin off of his face as he was courted out of town and to the countryside. He just hoped that the King would hold true to his request. He decided to stay in the lush comfort of royalty a little while longer and milk it for what it was worth until his skin was pruned.

His next choice was to go back to the theater and haunt it for the next three days in the hopes that the King's plan would work. The backstage regulars got used to his form being imbedded on the couch so they tended to treat him like another part of the scenery. When the actors, particularly of the female persuasion, showed up John made himself scarce and retreated to the dark , unoccupied corners of the theater. But still, Kathryn did not show. On the night of the third day, John felt he would have a conniption fit if he had to endure one more lousy performance of the same, tired play. He had to at least go for a stroll in the London air. Learning from past mistakes, he came well prepared this time with his own heavy carafe full of his favorite libation and only constant pleasure.

Passing pub after pub wasn't as bothersome to him as he became increasingly relaxed with every sip. Then he heard it. The sweet bell of laughter coming out of a well lit bad. He peeked in the door of the pub and was pleasantly surprised to see his friend Billy. He was happy to notice someone he knew. It was better than chasing after pretty, phantom noises in the night. _He must've been hallucinating..._

It wasn't until he heard it again that he knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on himJohn saw the object of his desire appear from behind Billy with her head tossed back in laughter and her hair down in luminous tresses. His back went rigid and his tongue went numb with unmistakable jealousy as he witnessed Billy laughing with her, lightly placing the palm of his hand on her beautiful neck. John couldn't stand to look at the sight, but his curiousness kept him from tearing his eyes away.

He heard Billy mention his name and watched Kathryn's features darken. She looked down at her fingertips, unconsciously bringing them up to rub her lip. John smiled at this. He knew exactly what she had been thinking about. Her eyes returned to Billy's and she shook her head. The Earl leaned into the doorframe so he could hear, more clearly.

"I don't want to talk about him."

Billy smiled easily and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. Seeing red, John only saw that they both left together and disappeared into the crowd and the smoke of the room.

He wanted to follow them. _Hell, he wanted to kill his best friend too,_ but he was too stunned to do it. The Earl couldn't move, he couldn't even scream obscenities like he tried to. He was simply rooted to the spot, silent in twisted astonishment._ Why her? And why Billy? A stranger he could've handled. He would've just stolen her away. _Kathryn never smiled like that for him. She never laughed like that with him. And, most upsetting to him, she never let him hold her like that. John knew that Billy was a practical stranger to her but he had to remember that his friend did have a very likeable personality. Just the kind that Kathryn would be attracted to. He stopped dead. _Please, don't let that be the case... She was his first dammit, and it was going to stay that way! _When had he decided this? Not being able to bear his thoughts anymore, John made his trek back to the theater. He may as well stay the night there.

Returning to the ever present azure sofa, John set his decanter down and decided to light the many candles in her area. Fire always seemed to make him feel better. Laying down, he just stared into their amber flame and thought of murder in prose. It always seemed more beautiful spoken that way, as if the people in them wouldn't mind dying. _What a horrible night this had been. _John then came to the conclusion that he was through playing games. He would find her tomorrow, even if he had to break into her house to do it. The flame swayed back and forth, hypnotizing him until his eyelids grew heavier and he couldn't fight sleep anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Short update, but hopefully good nonetheless. There is a great chapter to follow in the future. Please do enjoy my chapter and review if you feel obliged, I'd be happy to know what you think about it. I also want to thank my gorgeous ladies who reviewed, and a special welcome to Miss Artemis who joined us in this adventure last week. Now then, on we go...

Till next time,

McFadden-

Chapter Six

Kathryn was the only one to ever be at the theater before noon, and this morning was no different. Each step she took, her feet seemed to grow heavier and heavier. _God she didn't want to do this! _She had taken off for a few days in hopes that she wouldn't come in contact with Wilmot. After what happened nights ago, she couldn't promise that if she looked at him that she wouldn't kill him. When he left, she became so acrimonious and resentful that she locked herself inside her house and wasted away the time trying to rationalize the whole meaning of all of it. She gave up in the first twelve hours and spent the rest of the time wallowing in her own self pity. The bad thing was she knew that he would come to look for her the next day to just rub it in. Indeed he had been there. She could even smell his sandalwood scent in the theater. Her sanity was much of a debate right then as it was, she didn't need this intoxication to remind her.

When Kathryn retrieved her sewing for the day from the wardrobe closet, she went to the backstage area to work. Reaching the corner she saw the deep glow of light. Too much for it to have been a candle light, but it flickered like a flame would. _Did someone leave a lamp burning?_ That was such a dangerous thing to do overnight. Usually the skeleton staff were so good about double checking things like that. A breathing lump caught her eye from the shadows and light dancing on it. She saw who was almost unmistakably responsible for the melted wax and little bonfire. Kathryn saw his languid body stretched teasingly on the sofa. Even in sleep he managed to look like that, only less threatening. How could he manage things like that? As far as she was concerned, he deserved what he had coming to him in the next second.

With a clunk, the Earl's eyes ripped open when he was rudely and harshly struck in the back of the head, causing John to unceremoniously fall off the sofa. He had been slapped, and hard. His skull now had a pulse. There was someone else there with him. The blurry outline that was currently standing over his body began to come into focus as he stared at familiar figure that was Kathryn. His heart skipped a beat momentarily and he smiled until it registered that the look he was being given was a little less than pleasant.

"You stupid miscreant!"

_Yes, it was her..._He rolled over and pulled himself to his feet. Sarcastically remarking.

"There's my lovely turtledove, where have you been?"

She bent over, hastily gathering her fabric sheers and panels of cloth that were laying next to his smoking stack of wax candles. John knew exactly where she had been, and now he wanted to hear it from her own lips.

"Fuck you, John! The only reason I'm here is because for some insane point, the King himself said that if I didn't return to work immediately, I'd be fired. He even sent a lovely young gentleman to give me the message and be my escort. But, you wouldn't have any idea about that now, would you?"

_So that's where Billy played into the equation!_ John felt so much relief lift from his shoulders. He would have to apologize later for mentally murdering the boy numerous times over. John smiled at her liveliness and he smiled in secret. _King Charles had pulled through or him brilliantly!_ _He had even fallen for the plan. _John was happy to see his scheme worked. He was more thrilled to see her though. It had been four days. He smiled impishly catching her foul language she just spoke to him.

"Oh I love it when you talk dirty to me Sweetheart..."

Before John knew what was going on, he was back on the sofa as quickly as he had gone off of it. She apparently pushed him back down for his retort. His eyes looked at her oddly, Why was she so angry with him anyway? He didn't know what he could have done to her whilst he was sleeping.

"You could've burned down the entire theater with your candles Genius!"

_Except that..._So that's what this was about, candles. Yes, he let them burn all night, but he hadn't meant to. John attempted to get up again, and when she didn't make a move to push him back, he walked closer to her. Circling her once, his eyes traveled down her body. He noticed the goose bumps rippling across the flesh of her shoulder. Smiling to himself, out of her view, his hand caught a lock of her hair, letting it slide through his fingers until the length ran out as he came to face her again. As he leaned needily into the crook of her neck, his voice dropped to a low purr, drifting over the sensitive skin there like a silk sheet.

"I missed you terribly while you were gone. Don't do that to me again."

She hadn't realized it, but while this was going on, he was slowly backing her up against a wall. The Earl then did something that Kathryn didn't expect. His warm lips pressed up softly against her collarbone. Feeling his mouth part, she shivered openly at the feeling of his tongue licking the delicate junction of her neck and shoulder. She knew he was smiling against her skin. A moment later, he pulled back and looked at her with soft brown eyes.

"I'm sorry."

It was barely a whisper, but she heard it. _The Earl never apologized to anybody..._A nervousness went through Kathryn when he did that. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the fact that she knew he really meant it. _John Wilmot actually apologized to her._ She looked at him slightly apprehensive. When she replied her question could've been hard to swallow and her voice sounded weary but John found that it wasn't cruelly laced with mean intentions.

"Am I to believe you actually have a heart then?"

His hands went up to the sides of her face as his fingertips caressed her pale cheeks. He spoke dangerously close to her, so reminiscent of their last encounter together, but this time all she saw in his gaze was pure truth.

"Of course I do, Love. Most people just can't get to it without being seen."

Both of them could tell that the frigid demeanor between them had been melted somewhat and John was finally getting his hopes up. She had been so close to kissing him. But apparently his little kitten wasn't through just yet. Kathryn had one point to make, and it was good enough to possibly end this fantasy he was having.

"You left me remember? You had me right there, and you just left."

_Oh he knew that darling, he knew, but have a heart!_ He just wanted to save this moment for a little while longer. It had been so long since he was actually happy...

"I know love, and after these last few days I realized just how terrible a mistake that was."

If she had asked him to crawl, he was pretty sure he would've done it at that point.

"Perhaps if you were so diligent with your real manners as you are with your false ones, someone might actually believe you meant that."

She had gotten him again. _Touche, right in the chest._ John was about to come up with some surely pathetic retort when the both of them were interrupted by someone calling out for Kathryn. He turned and looked at her perplexed. Who would dare impede on their privacy. Whoever it was, had gotten his turtle dove's attention. She just headed past their confined space and turned around to face him. It wasn't angry, it was heart-wrenching.

"It's my turn to leave you this time."

If he wasn't John Wilmot himself, he would've sworn that his conscience had materialized in Kathryn's form right in front of him. She didn't even stop to see his reaction. He didn't even know if she could have. Whatever the case was, she was sure hurrying to meet with that voice. The Earl was infuriated. He'd be damned if he was going to take this! John was in the right mind to go follow her and haul her off over his shoulder, kicking and screaming if he had to. At any cost, he must see who this fiend was and memorize his face, because he was going to be the last person to see it before tearing it to shreds. He peeked out of the curtain just in time to see Kathryn smile brightly and be swung around by a nicely dressed gentleman. Only a flash of his features could be seen before covering her with kisses as she laughed. It was enough for John though. He didn't need to memorize those cheekbones and mouth, they were all too familiar already. No friends would just kiss like that. Kathryn's mystery lover was none other than Billy Downs. This was something he may never recover from. That image was now burned into his mind. All of his bad deeds were finally coming back to haunt him.

John suddenly felt this salty, strange sting scraping the back of his eyes. He gripped at the wooden beam beside him and slid slowly to the floor. Before he knew it, The Earl of Rochester was crying.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: It's alive! IT'S ALIVE! Another chapter in my growing story. Can you handle the suspense? Or must you just skip my little notes and dive right into the story. Either way I just hope I keep your interests. Welcome to my newest reviewer Quick 29...I'm glad you found me! I love all of the wonderful reviews from all of my ladies so far. Y'all are so great about that, and I'm so appreciative because of it. Okay, enough about me, let's talk about the Earl.

Chapter 8 is fast approaching,

McFadden-

Chapter Seven

Billy stole Kathryn away from the theater before she even had a chance to begin her mending. Of course, she would've started had it not been for the delay of a jealous, insidious, not to mention childish antics of a certain Earl. As she looked at Billy now, she wondered how such a good hearted and humored free-spirit like him ever got wrapped up with the likes of Wilmot. The man did say on more than one occasion that John was his best friend. But yet, all Kathryn could see in the two of them were polar opposites. Billy turned and winked at her when he caught her studying him so intently. With a flourish, he hooked his arm with hers and bumped her in the hip with his.

"Where shall we dine for the midday, My Lady?"

Kathryn pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind for later and returned his mischievous grin with a shy one.

"Hmm..."

Billy mocked her thinking by looking thoughtfully at the ground and tapping his chin with his finger. He cast a sidelong glace at her and saw a playful evil eye aimed right at him. Kathryn diverted then to an baker's cart, where numerous rolls and loaves of bread and wedges of cheese were set out for sale. She picked out her small coin purse from the stitching pocket in her apron and took out 5 pence to pay for their choosing. Billy however, beat her to it and lightly pushed her money down.

"I couldn't live with myself if I let you pay...I hope you understand why."

_Such a gentleman..._ That's all Kathryn could think as the jolly baker wrapped the goods in cloth and handed them over. After the transaction was done, Billy put the food into the bag he carried on his side and he led her over to the great fountain in the center of town. The day was a beautiful and abiding one for such a thing as eating outside. Not a single cloud marred the azure sky. All this combined with the company of a beguiling new friend made Kathryn blissfully happy, although her mind did seem to tingle with unanswered questions pertaining to a much more bothersome acquaintance. She just tried her best to keep them at bay for as long as she could. Billy spread their picking out inbetween them and pulled out a small but fat little bottle from his bag. It was filled with a clear liquid. Kathryn hadn't a clue what kind of potable it was. All she knew was that it made the sunlight cast a pretty glow upon Billy's face as he leaned over it to set up a plate for her.

"What's that?"

He retrieved the bottle and uncorked it.

"Here...You have to smell it first."

Billy held it up for her and Kathryn inhaled the scent carefully. It smelled of flowers...roses, to be exact. Never had she smelled such a thing besides its flowered form. Billy watched her awed reaction with his own restrained excitement.

"It's Roses! I've never seen anything like it. It's like you're holding a bunch of liquid roses in your hands..."

Billy nodded, smiling brightly.

"I found it in a rather curious medicinal shop, rose water... Apparently it has many purposes, but you can also drink it."

Kathryn examined the tonic closely as the contents bounced colored light through the glass and on her face and clothes. Billy smiled and touched her cheek.

"I wish you could see yourself like I do right now..."

Her eyes met Billy's soft and appreciative stare. Kathryn nervously bit the inside of her lip under the heaviness of his gaze. He must've noticed this because he dabbed his fingers in the bottle and leaned over to her. Talking quietly as he looked over the features of her jaw line and neck, gently pressing his fingers to her pulse and spreading them out, rubbing the small amount of water across her skin..

"Some women are know to even sprinkle it upon themselves to attract strange but gallant men to cover their neck in kisses and drive their minds mad with the scent."

With that said, his placed small, well thought out cherishments all over her neck, causing her skin to heat up and blush from the attention. Kathryn stifled a small giggle from the tickling she felt from his breathing.

"I see it works well then..."

A small smile crept on Billy's face as he put one last lingering kiss under her ear.

"Apparently so."

Kathryn found it difficult to meet his eyes a little while for fear of turning red. She tasted the rose water and found it heavenly. It was a lovely compliment to the bread and cheese in the absence of wine. Their meal turned silent as they just enjoyed the peace of one another's company. The food was nearly gone when Billy snapped his fingers, startling Kathryn out of her thoughts.

"I almost forgot..."

He untied the small blue sash that was used as a belt and walked over and sat behind Kathryn. She stiffened momentarily wondering what was going on as he proceeded to tie the fabric over her eyes.

"What are you..."

"Shhh... hold out your hand."

She did as she was told and she felt a cold and flat piece of metal being laid into the palm of her hand. Her brow furrowed as Billy whispered into her ear from over her shoulder.

"Make a wish."

Kathryn smiled instantly. It must've been a pence in her hand. She began to laugh and Billy contagiously followed with his own because of her giddiness as she tossed the coin into the air and heard it splash into the fountain seconds later. He felt Billy move from his spot behind her and move to face her even though she still was blindfolded. He grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her soundly over and over again, whispering to her.

"Come true, come true, come true...come true...come true..."

Moving her fingers up to his lips, Kathryn quieted him and removed the sash from her eyes. Looking at him with a shy smile she bit her lip again.

"Shhh...It just did."

In the shade of a large weeping willow tree stood John, watching the whole scene unfold in front of him. Each passing moment of the pair's passing affections made him lean more and more on the tree trunk for support. A flask clearly attached to his hand making the short journey to and from his mouth. His eyes were filled with utter hatred and his paled face streaked with angry, forgotten tears. He felt betrayed...and that feeling hurt him to the depths of his bones. He found it hard to push himself from his hidden spot, but he couldn't possibly take anymore of this blasphemy unfolding right in front of his face. John forced himself to turn away and walk back to the theater that was quickly becoming his depressing sanctuary due to the absence of the one woman her feared that he was falling in love with.

The whole scene took place without the knowledge of either Billy nor Kathryn as they got up and continued to walk and chat. However that incessant nagging in the back of Kathryn's brain made itself known again and she just had to question Billy about it.

"I know that you and Mr. Wilmot are very close friends, but I still can't seem to see how that particular binding came to fruition. The both of you are so different in your ways."

Billy furrowed a brow and shook his head.

"Not really Miss Kathryn. If you take a closer look, Rochester and I are very much similar in all kinds of ways."

Kathryn just couldn't believe that! She instantly protested.

"Certainly not! You're charming, and funny, and _very _endearing. Not to mention I actually _want _to be around you."

Billy smiled, flattered by her words and amused by her flustered state as she recalled his dear friend. He was also quick to point out some things of his own.

"Is he not charming, funny, and also endearing in every way when he's around you? Yes, he is a stubborn man, but there's so much more to him than that barbed wire, hot and cold exterior. Here is one thing you must understand...Rochester is like a big secret. It's enticing, it's seductive, sometimes dangerous, but always based on truth. No matter how far it may be stretched. You want to know it, you want to keep it, but at the same time, you want everyone to know you have it. That's just his way. No matter how vile the man is, or how despicable he can be at times...for all those faults comes an infinite well of loyalty, and that is more valuable these days than any amount of gold the King can give you."

Kathryn was shaken by this. It was true, he was all of those things. She believed every word he said. _But then why did he torment her so? _Although she hadn't seen him or his personal henchman all day. _He could always still be at the theater. _She had just left him there and now she was beginning to worry. Billy saw her apprehensiveness written across her face and wanted to cheer her up. He offered her a goofy grin which seemed to do the trick because she smiled despite her best efforts not to and elbowed him in the ribs. She sighed and lightened the subject, still keeping it to John.

"So...why is it that you call him Rochester?"

Billy laughed and scratched his cheek.

"Honestly? I think I'm the only one he lets get away with that. His complete title just makes him sounds like more of an portentous ass than he already is. So I just poke fun at him referring to him as Rochester. It just implies that he could own us all and we'd still have a laugh at his expense."

Kathryn grinned into the back of her hand.

"I bet he loved that when he figured it out."

"Actually, he's a very good sport about those kinds of things. My only wish would be he stipend his intake of the wilder side of life once in a while. I fear it's going to send him to an early grave..."

"Mmm...I beginning to see that myself. But it looks like you're going to have to pry that wish out of his cold, dead hands."

They continued on, discussing John a bit more, then turned their conversation to the things around them. It wasn't until the sky darkened in hue that Kathryn realized that they had spent the entire day outdoors and that she had completely forgotten about work. She tossed her hands in the air and exclaimed.

"Billy, it's nearly dusk! Oh what have we done with our day!"

He simply smiled at her, finding her personality more and more delightful as he discovered her new mannerisms.

"Enjoyed it...I hope."

She stopped suddenly, ashamed to have sounded ungrateful for his company.

"I didn't mean..."

He caught her chin in his fingers and stilled her.

"I know..."

Billy kissed her lightly on the lips and then offered his arm to her once more.

"Come now, My Lady. I shall escort you back to the theater. It is not quite curtain call for the actors, maybe I can get you there in time to complete your work in peace before their arrival."

Kathryn felt a certain form of relief wash over her as she took his arm to go back to the theater. What a wonderful day it turned out to be.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Due to a mishap of broken glass and my hand respectively, it has been rather difficult to type with sore fingers and palms. Please forgive the lateness. I do apologize profusely. I do love the reviews/threats I've gotten. So, it is my understanding that my Rochester is being held for ransom until I post another chapter. I have 48 hours...hmm. Well here's your chapter ladies, now please let Johnny go. He needs to play. Besides, I can't very well write my next chapter without my muse now could I? Reviews are welcomed as always.

I remain in your debts.

McFadden-

Chapter Eight

The ushers were already posted at their stations when they returned. Kathryn left Billy at the door so that she could go straight to her work. She hadn't had a day like today in a very long while. Even if her work load had doubled, she wouldn't have minded in the mood she was in. Luckily, the stage looked to be all set up and ready for tonight's performance. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing now that she could finish before people started to show up, _if she worked fast..._

She hummed dreamily to herself. Turning the corner, Kathryn stopped dead in her tracks. There ahead of her, John's body hung half way on and off the couch. The rattle of fear struck through her body at the sight of his limp form. Looking at his peaked color, she thought the worst. _Was he dead!_

After the shock subsided, her feet uprooted and she immediately ran to his side, searching for any signs of life. His skin felt clammy from a sheen of cold sweat.

"Johnny!"

No response. Kathryn laid her face close to his mouth. The faint air of breath met her cheek and her heart jumped. _Thank God he was breathing..._ She may not like the man very much but she didn't want him to die. Bending closer to his ear, she whispered to him.

"Johnny, come on. Wake up for me. Let me see those eyes..."

She moved his matted hair from his forehead, drawing her hand back when she realized that he was plagued with a fever. _She needed to get him out of here. _Afraid to leave him, but fearing that if she didn't do something he'd become worse, Kathryn ran for the entrance to the theater. Looking frantically through the oncoming coaches she spotted John's. She tore through the growing theater audience and reached Alcock, who was lazily propped up in the driver's seat.

"I need your help!"

Alcock looked at her snidely and sneered.

"What's the price you're willing to pay, Pretty?"

Instantaneously, Kathryn's temper couldn't be held in any longer.

"Get up you fucking bastard! John's sick!"

She needn't say another word before Alcock was off of the carriage and the two of them disappeared into the theater. Alcock took one look at his master and started to search his coats. Moments later, he pulled out a small vile of Laudanum. Kathryn couldn't make out what it was until Alcock told her and her eyes widened.

"...But that's poison!"

Alcock sighed and put the small tube in his pocket.

"He's been taking a drop of it whenever he feels the lunacy come over him. It staves off his more dangerous actions."

This frightened Kathryn. _Had their meeting earlier that morning caused this? She knew she shouldn't have left him! _She kneeled over him and wiped his shallow cheeks with her apron. Worry completely wrought her features. Tears started to drop from her eyes. The guilt was beginning to kill her.

"Will he be alright?"

Alcock shrugged.

"I've seen worse..."

Kathryn looked at him appalled and spat sarcastically.

"What...the dead!"

Alcock just frowned at her.

"I need to get him home so he cane recuperate."

In a moment of weakness, Kathryn looked up at the unkempt man from her spot on the floor. Even to him, she looked a pity.

"Please...take him to my house where I can care for him."

Alcock just stooped over and lifted John onto his back. Conscience of not causing embarrassment to his master, Alcock took another way out through the backstage door, so as to not have curious spectators. In that fleeting moment. Kathryn saw the loyalty that Billy spoke of. John's friends really did care for him. And whether she was unconscious of the fact or not, she was doing the same thing. The carriage ride was one of the longest Kathryn had ever been on, even though it was just a few turns to her doss. She hurriedly opened up the door for Alcock as he carried John inside. Putting him on the lounge. Kathryn wrung her hands nervously as she looked back and forth between the two men. One was completely oblivious to the world, and the other was just oblivious...most of the time. In her attempts to be nice, she offered Alcock her help. Although he denied needing it, Alcock knew that if Wilmot were to wake up and fine Alcock there when he was supposed to be looking after the house, he'd have his head.

"You can stay in the spare room. Really, it's no trouble."

Kathryn was chewing the inside of her cheek raw with her own politeness. She could see Alcock's suspicions of her written on his face, clear as day. True, she hadn't been the best person to be around, _but neither was he! He was a complete ingrate._ Kathryn knew that her thoughts weren't entirely true and felt bad for even thinking about them as the man lay completely at her disposal. Alcock cleared his throat. Kathryn looked up from the Earl's sleeping form and saw that his servant was preparing to leave.

"Wipe his head down with a cold rag. When he wakes up, I suggest you get to the other side of the room fast, he gets mad when he stirs from these bouts."

Kathryn looked at him questionably. Alcock knew her question without her asking.

"Like I said, I've seen worse. He'll be alright within 3 days. I'll be returning later this evening to drop off his things."

Kathryn gave him her word, promising to be vigilant and to notify him if something should happen. Seeing his now, in the safety of her own home, she felt better. Retrieving a cloth, she soak it in some water and wrung it out. As soon as she laid it on his head she heard him moan in deep agreement to the temperature change. The gravelly sound of it went straight to her toes, turning her insides to liquid.

_Whatever that was, it better not happen again!_ She didn't want him to have that effect over her.

"Johnny?"

His eyes wavered and she saw his dark lashes tremor on his cheeks as though he was in a dream. Kathryn pulled up a comfortable chair when she realized he wasn't going to wake up any time soon. All she could do was wait. To pass the time, she figured that she would make accommodations for the Earl because, considering the time, he was staying the night over and she didn't want him comatose on the couch. Briefly, a thought passed that she could call Billy to help her but that was swiftly dismissed due to the potential confrontations.

She retrieved a dark purple, hand-woven cashmere blanket and switched the others because he had soiled them with sweat. John's faced was twisted with discomfort and anxiety in his sleep. Using a cold, wet rag and a bowl of water, she washed his face and began singing the lyrics John wrote to accompany her quiet melody.

He seemed to relax under her touch. His lips parted as though he were about to speak. Kathryn leaned nearer to him so she could hear. His words came out in a slur.

"Why are you torturing me?"

Kathryn looked down at the bowl of water. It was a good thing that he spoke. It meant his fever was breaking. She should move him to her bedroom once Alcock returned. He needed to sleep on a real bed. Kathryn could handle resting on the couch for the night. The tender hold only her wrist nearly cost her to jump out of her skin. Apparently Johnny wasn't dreaming like she thought as she saw his bloodshot eyes looking helplessly at her.

"Why him..."

Not being in his right frame of mind made him sound delirious and pitiful. Kathryn offered him a confused look. She didn't know what he was taking about.

"Why who John?"

He closed his eyes in a mixture of fatigue and anger. When he opened the again, Kathryn could see faint traces of hurt in them.

"Don't play that with me. You know exactly who I'm talking about. I saw you with him!"

His attempts to yell had failed, coming out with nothing more than a harsh murmur. This made her look down in shame. His hand still held her wrist no tighter than before, but gentle. She knew she felt like she was being watched earlier. He had seen her with Billy and know she had to come up with something to explain herself.

"Not everything is what it seems."

He dropped her wrist immediately and looked at her half in disgust and half disappointed. His eyes turned from feverish to fixed on her face accusingly.

"Then why was he kissing you?"

Kathryn dipped her hands into the cool water and wrung out the cloth, wiping off his face and neck again. He begrudgingly let her because he really didn't have any choice in the matter. Besides, it seemed to be the only comfort he was getting today. Kathryn smiled softly and assuredly to him which only caused him to suspect even more bad news he hadn't stuck around for earlier. The look on her face was just too nice.

"Does Billy...

This time the Earl's voice worked when he yelled.

"Don't say his name!"

This outburst caused her to flinch. She sighed and tried a different approach.

"Does _he_ not kiss you every time you see him?"

If looks could harm, she'd be in trouble judging from the one she received then. It was accompanied by a lethal whisper through gritted teeth.

"Not. Like. That."

Being utterly embarrassed, she couldn't say a word in her defense. Feeling wrought with guilt, Kathryn apologized to him. Though she didn't understand the effect her actions were having over the Earl. John needed to get away from her. The churning in his stomach grew worse. He tried to push himself up to move but was hit with a dizzy spell and fell back against the cushions. He closed his eyes against the spinning world until it was bearable enough again to open them up once more. Looking around he became completely confused. Not being able to focus on anything except for the one person he didn't want to see right then, he finally gave up and asked.

"Where am I?"

Kathryn felt skittish on replying to him, but she continued to work diligently on getting him better, even if he was mad with her. Not meeting his eyes she watched her own hands as she washed his neck and spoke.

"In my home...I'm surprised you don't recognize the couch."

She smiled, though she tried not to. John took this into account and looked at the couch, noticing almost immediately that it was the same infamous lounge he himself had tried to seduce her on only days before. Hr grunted and settled back down. Looking at her with a contemptuous glare, he replied, sounding more like the sarcastic Earl she was used to.

"Your God has been cruel to me. How things can change... I seem to be at your mercy."

Kathryn met his eyes again. They seemed less intimidating now.

"I would think that _my _God has been exceedingly patient with you Johnny. You should consider yourself fortunate. I could've just left you at the theater."

John's glassy, fever-rimmed eyes stared at her, blinking cathartically. He smirked at her bitterly and mumbled.

"...you did."

Kathryn didn't pay much attention to this. His forehead started to bead up with more sweat and she was too concerned with that to listen to him feel sorry for himself. So she just hushed him.

"Calm down now, or you'll work yourself up into a fit. That won't help either of us much."

Pressing her fingertips up under his body, she tightened the covers around him. John had half the mind to grab her hands and run them over his body to make her feel just how hot he was. For all of her fighting mixed with her care was making him ache for her more. It just infuriated him. He just pushed those thoughts from his mind and filled the void with spiteful comments she really didn't deserve.

"It'll give me a piece of mind knowing that I'm better off delusional..."

She narrowed her eyes at him. They glowed at his ungratefulness, something John loved about them in secret.

"No one is going to feel sorry for you but yourself, so get over it. Don't mistake my kindness for affection towards you, or you just may get your wish and find yourself dead by morning."

Taking the remaining cold water and cloth, Kathryn got up swiftly and carried them off with her. John laid in silence arguing again with his own conscience. His head was so pained that it felt as though it was going to cave in. He knew that drinking so much sounded like a good idea at the time, but apparently he had finally reached a lined and tapdanced across it in his drunken stupor without a care in the world. Although he would never admit it, Kathryn was right, he did need someone's care, and lucky for him she came when she did. He imagined briefly the sight of Alcock wiping down his sweated brow while the human sloth obviously had one of his own. John shuddered and nearly vomited at the thought.

The pain increased and shot through John's body, causing him to moan. _Where is she? _The Earl knew that had someone spoken to him the way he just did to her, he would've left them to die. He hoped he hadn't offended Kathryn enough to where she would do such a thing.

Kathryn watched all of this from the hallway leading into her bedroom and sighed to herself. From the looks on his face, he was giving himself a mental verbal beating. She couldn't leave him in pain like that. Despite her best efforts to ignore the cantankerous man, she knew she could not. Creeping down the hall, she opened her cabinets that held all of her remedies. She took out a chalky white object, placing it beneath a piece of linen and crushed it with a wooden mallet. Removing a small bottle of greenish, cloudy content, she poured it and the now finely chopped powder together in a small goblet-shaped glass.

John had the palms of his hands firmly pressed into the sockets of his eyes when she returned to his side. Kathryn doubted that he even heard he come back. Judging by the way he went rigid when she touched his hand, she was certain of it. She pressed the glass into his palms. John looked at it surprisingly.

"Absinthe, that's a love..."

He took a sip of the liquid and Kathryn covered his mouth, looking at him firmly as his eyes began to tear.

"Swallow it."

After a moment, he gulped audibly and breathed heavily afterwards.

"What the fuck was that!"

Kathryn smirked.

"Absinthe, isn't that what you said."

He shot her a murderous glance.

"That. Was not Absinthe..."

He knew from the way she had to force herself not to laugh that she knew it wasn't that magical drink.

"No, but in spite of its taste, it'll make you better. It's a mixture of honeysuckle and mint. That bitterness you tasted was a tonic to bring your fever down."

John's lips tightened with the retched taste in his mouth, causing him to breathe through his nose. Kathryn studied the color in his cheeks. Her hair touched his forehead and felt soothing against his skin. He breathed, welcoming the comforting sensation until he caught a particular scent. Kathryn noticed the atmospheric change almost immediately and looked over at him. There was a deep frown on his face that turned her anxious. His voice was low and tempered again.

"I can smell him."

A not so pleasant chill ran through Kathryn's body at what she saw there in his eyes. Even though he was sick, she could see his possessive nature shining through it all, but she wasn't even involved with him. She didn't want to be cohering with a man like that. Nothing good would come from it. There was a knock on the door suddenly, breaking his ominous stare.

Kathryn looked back at the door, unaware of the hold that John took of her hand. When she did notice it, she wrenched it loose before she got up to answer the door. John feared it was Billy on the other side. To his relief, it was just Alcock to drop off his things. He watched at Kathryn whispered to the brute, while occasionally looking back at him On the other hand, Kathryn never thought she would be so happy by the presence of that man, but at least it cut through enough of the thickness in the room to help her to conjure up a disappearing act while he was there to watch over his master. Alcock picked up the washrag and readied a fresh change of clothes for him. John looked pleadingly at her retreating form. _God...his worse nightmare was coming true._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: _:comes out from under the covers: _Heh...hi... So I really have no excuse for the neglect of this story. I just got into a funk with it. I tend to do that sometimes _:pops self on the wrist:_...oww...Anyway, I apologize. Nonetheless chapter nine is here _finally,_ and the Earl is back right where he ought to be...filling my mind with all kinds of sinful things. I'm in quite the atmospheric mood for this chapter, so I hope you will join me with your wine (or sparkling grape juice, dependant on age) and languidly take in all that this chapter has in store for you. Your reviews and concerns were lovely and gracious. Thank you ladies. Reviews are always appreciated.

Enter at your own risk...

McFadden-

Chapter Nine

Kathryn retreated to her bedroom to catch her composure. She wasn't sure if three days in the presence of the Earl was the most intelligent of her ideas. _...But she did promise to take care of him._ And damn her better judgement, she would, even if he was going to be insufferable. Her only saving grace was the knowledge that he would sleep most of the time. Walking down the hall and into what would be John's room for the next few days, Kathryn saw that Alcock had brought the Earl all the comforts of his own home and set them up here. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. At least he could preoccupy himself in forms other than her torture which he seemed to enjoy so much.

There were endless amount of ink and quills, scrolls of parchment, and oddly enough what seemed like stage layout for the London Theatre._ Was he planning to direct a play there? God she hoped not!_ That was the last thing she needed. She could just see him cavorting around her backstage area, ordering everyone around with that cocky smirk of his plastered onto his face. Well, she wouldn't let him order her around. If he was commissioned for a play there, that would be the day she quit. In all of her mental arguing, Kathryn failed to hear the faint knock on the door or that robust man casting a shadow in the doorway.

"He's resting now. Is there anything else that I need to do?"

The almost cordial tone of Alcock's voice nearly threw her off-guard, making her answer distractedly.

"No...no, that's all. You're free to leave if you want."

Kathryn idly thumbed the feather of a quill. Alcock moved further into the room and looked at her with all seriousness planted firmly in his eyes.

"If he tries anything rash don't hesitate to lock yourself behind one of these doors. Fevers can make any man irrational, and the Earl is not excluded. John can be cruel in these fits."

An unsettling feeling hit Kathryn in the pit of her stomach. His concern was far too great for it not to be real. She wondered for a moment how often something like this had happened but quickly pushed it away and nodded at him.

"Thank you Alcock, I'll be sure to keep note of that. But for now I'm getting tired, so if you don't mind I think I'll retire for the night. Move John in here if you think he'd be more comfortable. You are welcomed to stay as long as you wish."

Kathryn nearly bit the inside of her cheek. What the hell possessed her to be so nice to men,_ both of them_, who had days before tried their best to run their hand under her skirts? She'll never know why she was condemned to be so consenting to people no matter how good or bad they were. Relief rolled over her when he silently declined and left her alone to show himself out. Kathryn walked unstably back to her room, the activities of the day finally catching up with her. As soon as she got close enough to the bed, she just collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. The soft, pliable sheets weren't made of silk, but they were more than what she could ask for. Her mind went briefly to John. Surely he had the comfort of the finest fabrics in his home. She'd never slept on silk, she just worked with it at the theater. The thought of having that smooth satiny feeling engulfed around her made her skin prickle. A thought of going to check on the Earl passed by without much credence. Kathryn was simply too tired to move. Besides, from the lack of commotion, she figured Alcock decided to leave the Earl where he was and she wasn't about to complain that he was just a few more feet away from her. She just laid there staring at a crystal perfume bottle on her vanity seeing her distorted image in the mirror on the other side as she looked through it. Not soon after, she was fast asleep.

It was well past midnight when a nightmare stirred John from his fitful sleep. He looked around, feeling strangely aware of his surroundings. _So, she decided to let him stay..._ Perhaps more to his relief, he also couldn't see any sign of that petulant servant of his. The images of earlier floated back into his memory, making him cringe. He never, _ever_ wanted to have a pseudo sponge bath from that bovine sloth again. As he turned to his side, his head sent a painful reminder as to what he was doing here in the first place. The most he could remember was that horrific display of treachery he witnessed in the center of town. Somehow in his livid rage he made it back to the theater to wait for them to return. To keep himself company, he drank, heavily. Before everything went fuzzy he remember swearing at the top of his lungs and ripping a garment that Kathryn had been working on to shreds. _Shit...that was going to cause problems_. He had to tell her before she found out and got fired for what he did. He didn't want that. Of course, even now, he was oblivious to the hour, or the fact that anyone normal, would be asleep.

Gingerly moving and getting to his feet, John waited till his eyes adjusted before heading down the long hall where he saw her disappear. Unsure of which room was hers, he opened up each door he came upon. He found an a small attic of sort behind one, a washroom behind another. Opening up a third door, the Earl discovered a room full of things he recognized to be his. Kathryn definitely wasn't in there. He only had one room left and assumed that it was her bedchambers. Taking care to be extra quiet he pushed on the door and it gave a slight creak as it opened.

It wasn't the noise of the worn wood giving way beneath every footstep, nor the slight breeze tangling through the curtain and into the room that woke Kathryn up. No, it was the pressure of someone else's body crawling up next to her from the foot of the bed. She didn't dare open her eyes, she didn't have to. The sandalwood smell that was lingering on his skin told her exactly who it was. She just lay there, still as a corpse. Thinking that maybe, if she didn't move, he would just leave her alone. That didn't seem to be the case when she felt his calloused fingertips run their course shyly across her cheek and down her lips, hovering there for a while to feel the timid breath coming from her mouth.

"I know you're awake. Your skin is too flushed for a person in slumber."

Kathryn reluctantly opened one eye to see an Earl she was entirely not used to. His shirt was opened and hanging loosely by its ties. The ornately long wig that normally adorned his head had been removed to reveal shorter hair underneath that suited him more handsomely. Even in its rumpled state. Bypassing all of this newfound visualizations, Kathryn was still quite confused at his presence. Her voice was stuck in her throat from it's dormancy.

"How do you know that?"

John smiled at the sound of it. He leaned in closer, not raising his own above a mere whisper. With each word, he drew an explanation by barely touching her with his fingers.

"The skin pales with sleep. The blood is drawn away from the center during rest, robbing the flesh of warmth. But I noticed you blush when I started to speak. Thus leading me to believe that you were already awake. Your body was telling on you Either way, pale or rosy, each one of its guises is quite beautiful on you."

Poetically put or not, she caught the playful tone in his words quickly. It took everything not to raise her brow in contempt. Kathryn was not entirely clear as to why she was allowing this behavior from him, and conceded by blaming it on a sleepy mind. His dark eyes roved over her as she laid there in little more than a night-shift. The strands of his hair, although shorter than that of his wig, were long enough to tickle the bridge of his nose. Her clouded mind seemed to lift as he stared her down and she remembered now that he wasn't well. Sitting up slightly and pulling the covers with her, she spoke seriously to him.

"John, you should be in bed."

He considered her silently for a while and then looked down where he lay.

"I do believe I am Kathryn."

It shook her to hear him say her name in that raspy tone of his. It was too much for her to pretend that she was comfortable anymore. John noticed and smiled even more, bending to her ear as she turned to look away.

"Oh how the body does betray..."

She felt as he took her hand and placed it boldly on his naked chest. Immediately Kathryn felt the coolness of his skin and she began to draw her hand back until the Earl prevented it from moving by holding it firmly to its spot. Both of their hands moving up and down with the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

"See...I'm not sick anymore."

It was true that he had gotten significantly better after his fever broke, but he should've been too weak to initiate this behavior. John bent lower until his lips brushed up against hers with every muttering word.

"All I need now, is for you to make me _feel_ better."

Kathryn shuttered before he finally overtook her with a deep and unforgiving kiss. The kiss wasn't something that came from a weak man, in fact, it held more strength within it than she had felt before. She didn't know that his dominant nature could come through in an action like that. But she was wrong. He anchored her down to the bed as crawled to be on top of her, his hands pressing possessively into her skin. Kathryn felt like she was the one with fire coursing through her veins. Tasting the salt of his skin, the scent of musk at the hollow of his throat. She had never been kissed like that. Billy certainly didn't become possessed like that. He was more considerate and submissive with his kisses. Almost too proper and formal, like he was afraid to get too involved. Not with the Earl! He held nothing back and was obviously demanding nothing less than that from her judging by the way he just bit down on her lip. So hard on fact, that she tasted the blood swirling in her mouth. Feeling a deep moan from him, she hesitantly pulled away.

"John. Stop."

Breathing heavily, she looked at him. He stared her down while licking the remnants of blood from his lips. She stammered all over her words when she spoke

" I can't...I mean, I fancy Bil..."

He cut her sentence violently short.

"Don't."

She watched as his eyes darkened severely with the prospective mention of Billy's name.

"Don't you say his name..."

He was lurking closely to her body, prowling it with his hands. Leaning down, John bit her shoulder, marking her. Kathryn grew increasingly anxious when he met her eyes again.

"You can fancy him all you want, but you are _mine. _Do you understand me."

It was a rhetorical question, she understood _that, _but nobody _owned_ her. Least of all, him.

"I belong to no one Mr. Wilmot."

The formality of his name angered him more, but they were too far gone in the situation by that point for it to make much difference. If there was anything he had came to learn in the past, it was that hatred made an equally tempered lust and that they both possessed it for each other. His hand traveled up the hem of her dressing gown to the inside of her thighs, making her breath catch in her throat. He just shook his head at her, chiding her inability to hide her want for him anymore. In spite of that, John still refused to touch her where she wanted. He intended to prolong the torture of foreplay as much as he could. Retreating down a little, the Earl used his teeth to untie the lacing of her gauzy shift, exposing the tops of her breasts to him. Making sure to establish eye contact first, John then blew lightly on her skin, causing a shaky sigh to escape Kathryn's mouth. He muttered darkly to he against her cloth covered torso.

"You don't love Billy."

Again, he wasn't asking her a question, he was telling her. All he got in response was a light moan and the sudden presence of her hands threading through his hair. He untied the strings further, exposing her stomach. Placing tiny kisses all across it, he whispered again.

"Tell me..."

Pushing the fabric up, he synched her legs securely around his waist. Kathryn couldn't take his teasing any longer. She had to have him! Even if that meant giving up her morals and any knowledge that she would almost certainly regret doing it later, she caved in.

"He means nothing to me."

With one final kiss on her navel, he murmured.

"Good girl..."

In a flash of white hot light, he pushed into her and she bit back a scream. It wasn't till long before they both resulted into moaning and screaming. If they hadn't been so blinded by the rawness of sex, perhaps they would have noticed the shadow that passed by the window and lingered there, hidden.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I guess the dvd release sparked a flood of interest in this minimal thread. Thank you to all of my new readers, including Jack's Wench, QueenieMeanie, and Dawnie. For my other readers, thanks for standing by. All of you have been awesome. Without you, there isn't a reason to post stories. So, I owe you!

Xoxo-

McFadden-

Chapter Ten

Morning broke and even though her whole body ached, it was the kind of pain Kathryn wanted to last a little longer. She felt a protective hand holding her hip tightly against another pair of hips. Smiling as her thoughts reverted back to the previous night, Kathryn pressed up against the Earl and received a drawn out moan in return. He was still asleep, but that wouldn't last very long. After a little movement, his eyes opened and immediately snapped shut due to the amount of sunlight that was flooding the bedroom. Kathryn took the liberty of getting up and shutting the curtains.

John rolled over and opened his eyes which immediately landed on her naked form. Raking over the body that he stole last night was like refreshing his memory of every moment, every movement, every sound that he made tear out of her throat. Coming back to bed, Kathryn attempted to snuggle up against him only to hear him laugh softly and stop her with his hand.

"No, no...none of that."

Pulling out of her utter shock, Kathryn realized that he never got close after he got what he wanted. It was written all over his face. And soon, complete disgust was written all over hers. He seemed to be needy only when the lights were dim. As soon as he had a good night's sleep or some spare time to really analyze things, only then did he pull back and become cold to her. Not that she couldn't shoot that treatment back at him with an equally viral viscosity. Kathryn was more than capable of that. Neither was she afraid of him, which was a common comfort that he was used to manipulating in others. His icy exterior was turning her numb. Snatching the robe from her vanity, she hastily tied it around herself. Kathryn didn't know it, but John had been watching her every move with incredible precision. He was gauging her movements and knew that she didn't understand why he never got too close. The Earl caught her eye as he got up and pulled on his pants. She looked at him maliciously and spat quietly to herself.

"I should've let you die."

Apparently it wasn't quiet enough for the Earl not to hear because he spun around, grabbing her and thrust her up against the adjacent wall.

"_You should've let me die?_"

His voice was cold and it was mocking her as he held her there and continued speaking.

"What? Do you want me to be kind and considerate? So you want me to hold you and whisper sonnets in your ear? Were you expecting that of me? If so, you're going to be _very disappointed._"

She looked at him in disgust and snarled.

"I guess you only do that when you're drunk!"

His grip tightened but she did nothing to loosen it. She just stared at him emotionless.

"No, I _expect _nothing from you John."

She clawed his wrist, causing it to bleed and he let her go. She glanced down at the wound for a mere second before she grabbed her overcoat and stomped heavily out of the room, and, from the sound of it, out of the door. As soon as he heard the door slam, his sobriety started to catch up with his hangover and he realized what he just did.

"Fuck...this isn't going to end well."

John was left alone to fume for more than an hour. Honestly, after the first half hour he stopped pacing from anger and started pacing out of worry. _When would she be back? Would she be back at all? _Not left with many other options, he stayed put until he heard the door open and what seemed to be the sound of things being shoved around followed by angered whispers and tiny curses. The pigeon had returned home.

_She tried...she really did. _But this was the final straw._ She'd had it with him! _After the indescribable night she shared with him, he had the audacity to brush it off as nothing. It left her bitter and completely void of any sympathy she possessed for that man. And now she wanted him out. Picking up his different belongings, Kathryn opened up her front door and unceremoniously tossed them out of the in door. John watched in horror from the hall as his writings and drawings were soaked with muddy water as they landed in a murky puddle. Spinning around, Kathryn pinned him there with a glare and two simple words.

"Leave. Now."

Initially, it was what he had wanted to do this morning, until he had time to stew his feelings whilst she'd been gone. Now, he didn't want to move. His insecurity began to grow, and his immediate defense was again, to get angry at whatever was causing him to feel vulnerable. She saw his anger getting the best of him once again but refused to pay attention to it. She didn't care if he threw a temper-tantrum. He had worn out his welcome and it was time for him to go. Muttering obscenities, the Earl stormed past her and began picking up the parchment in hopes of saving whatever genius was left on the paper. Kathryn just looked on from the doorway with frosty eyes, keen on watching every second of humiliation for him.

Only a few sheets were left to gather when a carriage wheel slid into a nearby muddy groove. Splattering the Earl with a mixture of sludge and rainwater as it came to a halt in front of him. The Earl sighed, heavily annoyed.

"Fuck me..."

_Brava..._ Kathryn had gone and done it now. As promised, it was Alcock coming to collect the now pathetic Lord. The staunch man climbed down from the driver's perch and offered Wilmot a hand.

"So sorry my Lord. These cobblestone streets seem to gather water in the oddest of places. Worst than the countryside really..."

John glared up at Alcock, noting the sincerity in his voice was clearly sarcastic.

"I'd sooner have stakes driven through my palms than to get in that carriage."

Alcock stared for a moment, not being able to decipher the analogy so the Earl offered him a simpleton's explanation.

"I'd rather walk..."

Alcock shrugged, content with whatever his master wanted to do. He wasn't going to risk the extra pence it would cost him if he had argued for a point. _If the bastard wanted to walk, let him walk._ In the meantime he picked up the remnants of John's papers and the rest of his belongings scattered about the steps of the flat. The Earl made one look to see if Kathryn was enjoying this spectacle and all he caught sight of was the view of her back, retreating into the shadows. Picking himself up, Wilmot attempted to clean up as best as he could, wrapped his scratched wrist within his shirt cuff, and headed down in the direction of his home.

John didn't get more than a few yards away when he heard this beguiling, albeit satisfied, little chuckle from behind him. Turning around the alley corner, pulling off a pair of white stitched gloves, the handsome face of Billy Downs appeared, and he was highly amused.

"Ah...if it isn't the King's darling. Look at you. You've done well John."

Surprised to see the face of anyone so early, the Earl smiled, trying in earnest to come across composed. Although the stains on his frock coat said otherwise. Wilmot tried to retain some of his dignity and tipped the brim of his hat.

"Oh how I do miss your pronunciation of my dear 'Rochester'. What's the cause for ceremony, using such a formal name?"

That's when Billy's expression changed from friendly to cruel.

"To call you anything but John, would prove me a friend of you."

Crooking an eyebrow the Earl looked at him sternly.

"Are you not?"

Returning with an equally harsh stare of his own, Billy tipped his head up high and replied.

"I am not.

Being rightfully shocked but recovering quickly he sneered and sarcastically spoke.

"Beautifully spoken..."

After a moment of silence that followed, John stepped forward, invading Billy's personal space, and continued.

"So that's it then. The end of a friendship and the beginning of another acquaintance. Are you now an enemy?"

Billy locked eyes with him affirming the answer to his question.

"Due to recent, unfortunate affairs that I lay witness to, I say yes, and without regret."

"Care to humor me and explain this sudden change of heart?"

"I saw you with Kathryn through the bedroom window. You bewitched her as you've done with many, including me, into believing that you love her, and only her. I watched you in the theatre, masquerading to her pleasures even though she was unaware of what she desires. You took advantage of her. At first, I wanted to take her because she was someone you were toying with, and I wanted to get _your _attention. Now that I had it, and her, I realized that I wanted her more. I wanted her before you got a chance to corrupt her. I saw it coming. And I made a deal with myself to write you off if anything more should happen...And it did. But from the looks of it, I don't have to worry about that much. She obviously found out who you really are."

Johnny was put off by this invasion of privacy. The fact that said night hadn't ended very well was only rubbing the pre-existing wounds the wrong way. _How dare this little rat shylock pose a threat like that._ But, if anything, John knew just what to say to knock him down.

"Kathryn knows full well what she desires. And, much to your dismay, it's still me. We're just in a bit of a lover's tif. That's all. Envy has just painted you green with the realization that I could never love you Billy. Furthermore, you could never give her what she wanted as I can. You may try to steal her away from me if you wish. I will love to play that game if you choose to engage me in it. But know this...If that be the case, then I shall be forced to keep my own promise I've made with myself."

With a hint of a smirk, Billy dared him with his eyes.

"Which is?"

With the quickest of movements, John had Billy caught up against the wall of a building, using his cane as a choking device. While Billy hung there, toes barely touching the ground, and flailing against the restraints, the Earl got ever so close to his face and hissed through gritted teeth.

"I will kill you, Billy."

Releasing the younger man to gasp for air and slide to the ground, John immediately changed his direction and headed back to Kathryn's flat, fearing that if he didn't, Billy would get their first and the thought of that never settled right with him. First, he would surely have to convince her to even open the door. A woman that livid, meant only one thing. The aching scratches on his wrists would not be the last wound he would receive. Second, of he didn't, Kathryn would willingly run into the arms of Downs.

_Fuck! He was going to have to apologize...again._


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Okay Miss Catherine, you've sufficiently kicked my ass enough for me to get inspired to finish this. Any thanks for an update should go directly to her. :oP

A final chapter will be posted straight after this one since my reader are at the very least, more patient than the writer. Truth be told, it was a not so terribly bad review that delayed my writing. When someone says they don't like the only character that you created in this story, it's a heavy blow. But, I'm back on my feet and hopefully none worse for the wear. Reviews of any kind are still welcomed around here though!

Love to all!

McFadden-

Chapter 11

Pacing outside of Kathryn's flat was doing nothing to raise the Earl's confidence, though he was sure that she was unaware that he had been doing it for nearly 20 minutes. Alcock and the carriage were still situated infront of the building, but there was no sign of his servant. John couldn't let that bother him right now; and Billy, _the prat_, was the least of his worries. _How exactly was he going to get this to work? _The Earl could just imagine Kathryn inside of the flat storming from one room to the other. He juggled the option of going down the corner to get a decanter of wine against the obvious wrath that would incur if he were to show up at her doorstep completely sloshed again.

It didn't take long for the idea of a drink to convince him and inevitably win out._ If it's waxing poetic that the woman wanted, then that's what she would bloody get. _And if he had to dodge a whole wardrobe and do it while flirting with a fuzzy mind; he'd take his chances.

What was initially supposed to be a quick pint at the tavern, turned successfully into seven, and the hours ticked by without a care. John had all but forgotten his inconvenient memory. Until the very owner of the small theater came in and complained to the barkeep about the sudden disappearance of his best seamstress. With a groan that distracted a few of the patrons from their conversations, John thudded his head on the bar top and sluggishly drug himself off of the stool, muttering obscenities all the way out of the door.

Propped up by the wall, Wilmot waited for his vertigo to subside and checked his pocket watch. _Had he spent 2 hours in there? Damn..._

Running wasn't exactly the Earl's forte, and it showed because he just collapsed when he reached Kathryn's door again. It surprised him to find that it was standing slightly ajar. He could hear angry footsteps tromping around inside. Unfortunately all he could do at the moment was lay there on the stoop and listen to it amidst breathing heavily. Suddenly he saw a shape stop in the view through the crack in the door. Expecting to see Kathryn or even Alcock, he was when he was met with quite a different sight. _His mother._

Looking back at the street in confusion, he had failed to notice that the carriage that he thought to be his own, was indeed his mothers. If there was a moment he wished to be killed, now was it. If only a bum would appear, steal his gold, and slay him so that he could die instantly. But it was too late, the deformed, foppish skin bag was now staring down at him with stern, disapproving eyes.

"Well John, what mess have you decided to make now? As I hear it, you've taken to a poor seamstress and tricked her into your evil ways. The girl is near exhaustion with worrying over what card you're going to pull next."

Rochester glared at her with a detesting smile.

"Oh mother, you make it sound so easy. I only wish I had half your evil fervor."

Rolling over onto his stomach, the Earl pushed himself up and brushed the dirt off of his clothes.

"I don't believe you would _voluntarily _come to my London flat for a _visit_; So, other than the unhealthy habit of spying, what brings you to see me?"

She sniffed the air aristocratically and looked at him.

"Your manservant paid a visit to the country house late last night informing me of your obvious inebriated condition and your whereabouts and asked me to come here first thing in the morning. We might not have many pleasant words to say to eachother John, but I am still your mother and will care for you until it kills me."

Rochester snarled and rolled his eyes dismissively at the old woman while trying to look past her and into the doss. His mother sighed, rather sadly at her son before she replied.

"She's not there. I sent her away with your carriage and that _thing_ you had driving it, she needs a break. And no, I will not tell you where she went. From what I can see, she'll be infinitely better without you. Your servant has been instructed to return to the countryside estate once the girl is safely cared for. All that you need to know is that you're coming back to the country and getting those polluting chemicals out of your system for good."

John just laughed at the ridiculous thought until he notice that his mother didn't budge. His eyes drew together as if challenging what she said to be the truth. When nothing came from it, he repelled.

"You've gone completely mad, woman!"

She merely waved him off like a spoiled child that was having his toys taken away.

"You'll survive it I'm sure. Besides, the house is far too quiet without your temper. I swear, if there was such a thing as a male succubus, it'd be my own son. How does that suit you now?"

It was only a glimpse, but it was made clear that John was indeed a product of his mother's sarcasm. He just sneered at her and tromped off the steps and into the awaiting carriage, replying dryly.

"The feeling is mutual, Mother. There is a pleasure I'm experiencing that even you don't know about."

All throughout the carriage ride, Johns thoughts strayed from his present state, to wondering where Kathryn was sent, and just how many ways he could torture Alcock into telling him where she was dispatched.

Later that evening, after his mother had basically confided him to him rooms, forbidding that he leave them. He wasn't up for it anyway, he was too busy fuming and debating on whether he should poison her, or just write about it.

_He chose to write..._

Completely wrapped up in the twisted imaginings being manifested by his quill and paper, the Earl didn't hear anyone enter his room until an all too familiar grunt of announcement was made. Wilmot turned his eyes, cutting them in the direction of the man he knew was already standing there. Alcock, being caught off guard by such a dangerous glare, quickly moved out of its way. His only mistake was that he moved closer to the Earl.

John's fingers closed over the thick throat of his accomplice. His voice coming out in a smooth, constrained whisper.

"Where did you take her, you dumb mule?"

Alcock tried to speak despite the drop in circulation but found that he didn't have enough air to do so. Noticing this, the Earl loosened his grip only slightly. Sputtering, Alcock just spoke in broken phrases.

"Dunno...my Lord...told me to..drop her in...Blythe field..."

John let him go just as his eyes rolled back into his head and Alcock fell listlessly to the floor. He was out cold.

_Blythe Field...why the hell there? Nothing was there for miles._

Deciding to see if he could get anything else. John picked up a crystal pitcher half full of water from his awaiting meal, and unceremoniously dumped it over the unconscious servant.

Gasping from shock, Alcock leered at the Earl with wide eyes. Wilmot just bent down on his haunches and impatiently questioned him.

"Was there anything else at Blythe Field?"

Alcock looked around the room in an apparent daze. That was, until John decided to slap him across the face.

"PAY ATTENTION!...the field..."

The man shook his head clear and nodded.

"There was another carriage waiting for her. Didn't look familiar, and I couldn't make out the driver."

_Great! Where the hell did he find people like this?_ John sighed into his hand and looked at him sharply.

"Get out of my sight.. And change those clothes!"

Alcock merely waved off his comment as he headed out of the room. It was obvious that he was used to this type of behavior

"Consider it done, My Lord..."

Days would turn into months, into years, of searching for someone John feared he'd never find again. As time wore on, it would seem to any outsider that life had returned to normal. At least that's what the Earl would have anyone believe. He even went so far as to get married to a woman he didn't really love. _But since when has anyone married for love?_ He kept up his charade as well as his reputation without faltering. Even his own mother had been fooled. Most of the things he immersed himself in were more or less to take his mind off of his memory. But at times, it would get the best of him and John was left searching again.

_Then it happened..._

It started with a pain in his side, that progressed into blood in his urine. A sore that progressed to a wound, that progressed...

Now he was irreparably ill. It was causing him to deteriorate inside and out and he didn't even know what _it_ was. Nobody knew. To add insult, no one, not even his wife, would even touch him. All he had left now, were the very memories he had tried so hard to escape.

_The irony of it all..._


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: At long last, the finale... I think you all have been waiting for it long enough. That is why I chose to post it immediately following the previous chapter. Now I will lay down my own quill and let my fingers rest awhile. I hope you find this up to par with your expectations. All reviews, good and bad, are welcomed and, as always, appreciated.

Love,

M-

Chapter 12

_It wasn't supposed to end like this_.

That was the same thought shared by two separate minds. One not knowing where or how far the other was from him; the other, standing just outside the door that would bring her back into his life just as it was ending.

Entering the room, all that Kathryn could smell was death lingering around with its cold hands. Just waiting for the final moments to grab its prize and take him away. At least she could tell he was conscious. With his eyes still closed against the fair amount of light drifting through the room, the Earl sighed, clearly aggravated.

"I wasn't aware I had an audience..."

A faint smile graced her lips. _That's the man she remembered._ Embittered and acid-tongued. Stalling for a moment, Kathryn just looked over his decrepit profile from the safety of distance. From there, she countered with some of her own forgotten wit that seemed to surface again without warning, although soft as it was.

"I'm well overdue for a debt to be repaid. You spied on me once, it's only fair that I return the favor. At least that's how I remember it."

John visibly shook.

"It can't be true."

He readjusted himself on his throne of pillows so that he could sit up properly and look at her. Kathryn noticed how even this little bit of effort took almost every ounce of energy from him. It saddened her to see the frail form infront of her, but yet still have the vibrant memories of the merciless debauchee. Suddenly her eyes darkened from missing him. Even blistered and ill as he was, she still saw a shadow of what he once was.

"All these years of silence and now you come to me...looking like that...and leave me here, to lay, without the rigid body to do anything about it. And they call _me_ a sadist..."

His eyes, although cloudy with cataracts and sickness, still shone brightly with the mischief of his finer, more careless days. Kathryn proceeded closer to his bedside and smiled at him knowingly. The Earl reached out one gnarled hand to the material hem laying about her hip and tugged it, bringing her closer so that she bent to his laboring chest. With his voice, smooth and low against her cheek, he whispered.

"I would rip you apart..."

The words weren't threatening, but, had he retained the body and stamina he possessed years ago, Kathryn would've been in trouble. She felt the feeble yet determined lips press against the corner of her mouth, causing her to smile.

"I have no doubt that you would Johnny."

He made a small nondescript noise at the mention of his name.

"Say it again. It's been a long time."

Kathryn's throat became thick with unexpressed emotion and when she said his name for the second time, it came out in more of a hoarse whisper than a forgotten sentiment. Still it held an effect on the Earl.

"Why now? Why, when it's already too late?"

"Because you were looking for me. Before _this,_ I heard you haunted the old theater looking for me."

John laughed bitterly at the memory of stalking through the backstage so many times. The first few times, women vied for his attention, but soon after, came to realize that it was pointless to even try. To them, the famous Earl of Rochester had finally gone mad. It was more surprising that he had gone mad over a girl. To imagine a man like him losing himself to the ghost of a woman. One that wasn't even his own wife no less.

"Two years actually..."

Kathryn silently wondered if it had really been that long. She knew better than to underestimate the will of a determined, of not altogether incorrigible man. The voice of that man cut through her thoughts, pulling her from them again.

"What else do you know about me?"

She sighed and played with the lace that was fringed on one of his many pillows.

"A lot more than you think..."

He went to grab her hand to stop it from it habitually nervous movement, but before he could, she dropped it back down into her lap.

"Your wife, is she well?"

That stung him. More because the question held not malice or bitterness, only pure concern. A lot more than he or the cow he married, had deserved. His tone took a spiteful tone as he referred to her.

"She's well. Well enough to be burning my plays and my poetry if that acrid scent that I'm smelling is that of ash."

Kathryn just cocked an eyebrow in amusement while he paused momentarily to fuss with the over doilied cuffs of his night shirt and huffed.

"She hates my writing..."

She bit her lip and mumbled.

"...there _was_ a small bonfire in the courtyard when I arrived."

John just sighed and laid further into his cushions.

"Just as well I suppose. They'll soon be burning them in the streets. Why not let her be the first to do it... I do have something for _you _though."

She looked up at him, mildly surprised.

"John how could you have known that she was going to..."

He cut her off while pulling a small, red journal from underneath his pillow.

"...I had a feeling the Misses would be bitter so I saved this from the kindling and have been trying to hide it safely for over a month now. I didn't think you would ever see me again, but I gave instruction to Alcock to send it to you in my stead should I pass on. I guess whatever God my mother is praying to decided to let me have a last minute reprieve on her behalf of blind faith."

Kathryn took the small bound book and looked at the nameless spine, not missing the fact that John ran a lingering finger down to her wrist when he handed it over. She went to open it but he stopped her by putting his hand on the cover.

"Not til I'm gone...please."

Looking at his face, she could see that it was important to him that she wait, no matter how much the thought of him dying hurt her. A silence fell over the both of them as she remembered the man that he was. They hadn't known eachother personally for more than a week but God how he had infuriated her! But with that, came his relentless passion that Kathryn had never been able to find in anyone else. Not that she had tried often, but when she did take a lover, she found it useless. Now, all that was left of the man she knew, was a mischievous glint lying behind he tired eyes. Somehow, that was good enough for her.

"I'm assuming you heard about Billy..."

Being jarred out of her thoughts by his words, Kathryn's eyes lowered to her nervous hands. Obviously uncomfortable at the mention of that particular name. But, the Earl, still being who he was, pushed it a little further.

"...His last breath of air held your name within it. Did you know that too? I forced it back into his mouth with the blade of a dagger. And what are your thoughts on that?"

Her voice came out quiet and meek and still she didn't meet his eyes when she answered.

"I have none...only relief and a certain amount of gratitude owed to you."

That shocked John to say the least. He hadn't been expecting such an answer from her and it showed when he finally caught her eyes. Her eyes searched him carefully and held a resonate sadness in them for his physical state. _Why had she waited so long to come back?_ Pulling a chair close, Kathryn decided to fill the void that his silence posed.

"Do you know what happened the day I disappeared?"

This time his eyes mirrored hers with a flash of his own sadness and resolve. He knew that she was safer away from him, who knows how bad they would've hurt eachother eventually had she stayed. For that, John could regrettably say that his mother had been right.

"Apparently, I had become a bigger burden than I had hoped. But that's in accordance with the lady of the house and I know how dramatic mommy dearest can be."

Kathryn shot him a leery and playful look.

"Lest we forget the theatrics of her very son..."

A ghost of a smile made itself present on John's face.

"Ahh...those were my glory days. I was at my finest when I was with you."

Kathryn leaned over to look him in the face with a dignified brow raised.

"Well, you're with me now, do you feel any different?"

He retaliated by jutting his chin in the air at her.

"If I worked properly, perhaps then I could show you physical proof of what a difference your presence makes, but I digress. Certainly my charm has not worn down just because my flesh has decided to take its leave."

She smiled slightly at that.

"The same can be said for your sense of humor, I see."

He scoff indignantly, his voice retaining its silky texture .

"My dear, if I lose that, then I truly am dead."

Her eyes saddened and lowered from his at the upbringing of the very grave subject she was trying to avoid. With him being as far gone as he was already, there really wasn't a use in beating around the bush to save fragile feelings. The Earl chided softly with his tongue and brought his hand under her chin to lift it up. His gaze had softened substantially as he spoke to her in hushed tones.

"I'll have none of that. Time has passed me by without a second glance for anyone to grieve, so I do not expect you to waste any of the time we have left by crying over me now. There'll be plenty of opportunities for that when I finally shut my eyes and sleep."

_He was really dying..._Regardless of his words, or maybe it was the fact that they so closely mirrored some of the last ones that he said to her before they fought and she left him, Kathryn still found a tear slipped through her lashes and onto the Earl's palm. In the past, he had not wanted to show vulnerability or displays of open affection, but now, it was all turned around. Wilmot could sense something was wrong so he dropped a hand on her knee and began to trace patterns on it to ease her.

"That day...when your mother came to my door after you had gone, I saw that Billy wasn't that far behind. I heard the argument between the two of you when I went to call you back. I saw him duck into the ally and became frightened that he would act rashly had I been alone. I explained my situation to your mother, so she sent me off rather quickly."

John took it all in as it came, having already figured the reasoning behind it a long time ago. It still did nothing to lessen the pain of her absence.

"I see..."

Kathryn blinked.

"That's it? That's all you have to add? You don't want to know anything more?"

John caught her eye in a long glance. Telling her that he'd already know what she would have said anyway. Still, his eyes held her there.

"Do you know I almost killed my best servant because of you? It didn't cross my mind til long after he'd been knocked out that he couldn't even tell right from left without the help of smudging it in coal on his hands. My mother, on the other hand, is just as aggravating to get anything out of as a festering boil. So, I was left wondering. The rest doesn't matter because, unless I'm hallucinating, you're here now."

Kathryn blushed slightly from the way he looked at her.

"And here I was, thinking that you had gotten all you wanted from me years ago. So afraid that if I came now, you wouldn't even remember my name."

The Earl smiled softly, but in a sad and pained sort of way. His paled, discolored eyes lifting slowly to reveal the slight presence of unshed tears.

"My love, it will be your name on the lips of two dead men before the day is through. It just so happens that while the first was a traitor and died as he should; in the cold, dark night. The other however, is a sad and world weary debauchee, that will die as he should. Ridden with the mental and physical consequence of his playboy days, while laying in his deathbed next to a lover that he'll never truly have."

At that, he slightly tugged on the hand that she didn't realize he was holding. He pulled her from her sitting place to lay beside him. With all too much finality, Kathryn realized what he was saying and how he meant it. She laid there, tears silently falling from her eyes as he watched her with his heavy-lidded gaze. Nothing was spoken between the two of them as she listened to the slow beating of his heart through his chest and felt his feeble hands thread themselves throughout her long hair. Finally, she heard him whisper her name, his lips sweeping ever so gently across her forehead. His heartbeat dwindled, and John Wilmot, Second Earl of Rochester slipped away.

Kathryn had no recollection of just how long she had laid there. It must've been hours and even then, his wife hadn't come to look in on him. Only when she felt an uncommonly gentle hand on her shoulder, did she realize that Alcock had been there.

"C'mon Miss...the longer you keep like this, the harder it will be to let go."

She knew she didn't have to reply, she didn't even think she had the strength, but she didn't protest as the brawny man lifted her out of the bed and carried her into another bedroom of the house. Her arms hung limply around his shoulders until he laid her down again and sat on a small footstool beside the bed. He reached into his inner coat pocket and retrieved the small book John gave to her and handed it over.

"Don't want to be forgetting this...he worked hard on it. His best, if you ask me."

Kathryn couldn't bring herself to open the book while she wasn't alone, it just didn't seem right. Soon, Alcock got the point and just as quietly, left her there alone. She thought her eyes had abandoned all the sadness left in her, but when she lifted the cover, her tears welled up again as she ran a hand down the page and across the elegant scrawl of John's handwriting. There, on the first page, was a poem.

_The Seamstress_

_God has made a mad fool of me._

_How cruel to mock me with such a pretty face._

_If I gave up now to a ghost in a hall,_

_A shadow beyond a curtain,_

_I'd meet nothing but a cold draft of suffocating air._

_My spirit would linger like a silk caress._

_Woven with the gaze of an absinthe colored stranger,_

_This fragile thread in my hands...now. _

_Will it mend or melt my heart._

_Am I to break her gently,_

_Or will she be the end of me?_

_Redemption_ _is not for my kind,_

_I will die seeking nothing but the eyes of my beholder._

_If she be waiting for me,_

_Then I will know that I am forgiven_

_And that heaven does exist_


End file.
